


Transient shadow, true light

by seafoamist



Series: Different time, different place, but my love is right [1]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, Blood and Violence, Edo Period, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Friendship/Love, Graphic Description, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Inspired by Scarlet Heart Ryeo Kdrama, M/M, Nobility, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reincarnation, Romantic Angst, Romantic Friendship, Royalty, Time Travel, Whipping, implied drowning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:34:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 34,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22114924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seafoamist/pseuds/seafoamist
Summary: Kuroko Tetsuya is trying his best in life, but everything keeps going wrong for him no matter how hard he tries. His friends, the Generation of Miracles, had abandoned him when high school ended, and they all went their separate ways. Basketball is hard for him, and being in university is a struggle all on its own. Tetsuya sometimes wishes he can leave this life, and start over.It is during a total solar eclipse that he finds himself thrown into the past - to the Edo Period in Ancient Japan. There, he finds himself given a second chance to live again, as Naruse Takeshi. However, being from the future makes him the oddest person around, and he gains the attentions of the royals. Many of them remind Tetsuya of his friends from modern 21st century Tokyo...all except for one royal member: Matsuda Junichi, known as the 'Wild Tiger' for his frightening, aggressive nature and estrangement from the other royals.A story about how loyalty is the foundation of love, that we cannot always get exactly what we want in life, and to cherish the present more than anything else.
Relationships: Akashi Seijuurou/Mayuzumi Chihiro, Aomine Daiki/Kuroko Tetsuya, Himuro Tatsuya/Murasakibara Atsushi, Kagami Taiga/Kuroko Tetsuya, Kasamatsu Yukio/Kise Ryouta, Midorima Shintarou/Takao Kazunari
Series: Different time, different place, but my love is right [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1591816
Comments: 20
Kudos: 72





	1. Reincarnation

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! Okay, I am about to start my first KNB fanfic with multiple relationships in it! Ahh I'm kinda nervous, but excited as well! 
> 
> This story is heavily inspired by the Korean drama Scarlet Heart Ryeo (it’s an amazing drama and I highly recommend if you have the time to watch it!) 
> 
> So the premise for Kuroko’s situation is the same, except the fallout with the Kiseki no Sedai happened in high school instead of middle school. Ogiwara still attended a different school to Kuroko, but his team did not play against the GOM in this story (so no Ogiwara angst here, yay!) And he has not met Kagami…yet. I have included both AoKuro and KagaKuro tags, as there will be AoKuro in this story, but KagaKuro will be the main couple here so just letting everyone know that now. 
> 
> Also, just a head’s up, I will be using characters from Kuroko no Basket BUT I will be changing their names as they will be reincarnations of themselves – but I will definitely make it clear who is who :) some parts of this story will be really historically inaccurate, so yeah just stating that this is all fiction with a creative spin on history! Please enjoy!

Some people looked fondly back on their high school life. Others cringed and even got embarrassed when they recalled the type of teenager they used to be. For Kuroko Tetsuya, thinking back on his high school life brought him a mixture of happy beginnings, painful memories, and a heartbreaking end to it all.

_Kise-kun, Midorima-kun, Murasakibura-kun, Akashi-kun, Aomine-kun, Momoi-san…_

They were all too far away now. They were out of his reach, probably forever. He missed his friends, the ache in his chest never fully subsiding no matter how hard he trained or what progress he made for himself. They had forgotten about him...

The feelings were especially intense involving Aomine. As his best friend, Kuroko had felt the bond between him was stronger than the others. In high school, even though Kuroko hadn’t been one of their original starters, Aomine had been the first person to encourage him to keep trying and never give up. Aomine had believed in him so much, had pushed Kuroko to do better – and he did get better – and being the shadow to Aomine’s light was a feat he would always be proud of.

Kuroko knew his feelings for his old partner were a lot deeper than those of friendship. He’d never told Aomine about his feelings, hadn’t been granted the time or the place to do so. It hurt, remembering his smile and then wanting nothing more than to see it again. But, that was never going to happen. He hadn’t been able to keep up with Aomine-kun, couldn’t support him in the way that he had always used to do. Aomine-kun no longer needed him, his light shining too brilliantly and overpowering Kuroko’s shadow.

He had never been able to find another partner that shone as brightly as Aomine did. His team that he had now in university was good, but they were still a new team and it was hard work sometimes getting everyone’s plays to click. He got on well with his teammates, but they hadn’t connected with him like Aomine had. It was like Midorima had once said, the brighter the player shines, the darker Kuroko’s shadow becomes. 

“–roko? Oi, Kuroko! Can you hear me?”

“Ogiwara-kun,” Tetsuya answered, registering his best friend’s presence by his side once more. The noises of the train station came flooding back in, snippets of other people’s conversations and the overhead speaker lady making announcements of any delays that may affect commuters. Ogiwara-kun had been off buying them drinks while Tetsuya was left waiting.

“Ah, finally! I was calling your name for a while now!” Ogiwara grinned, two bottles of Pocari Sweat in hand. He handed one to Kuroko, who blinked for a moment before taking it. Then, he started tugging Kuroko along with him, “Come on, or we won’t get a good spot to sit!”

They began their walk out of Shinjuku station, which was only 10 minutes away from Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden. Since it was a particularly nice spring day, Ogiwara had invited him ( _dragged_ was probably the more appropriate term) out when their university classes had finished just after midday.

Even though he wasn’t even halfway through his first year of university, Kuroko already felt so tired and lonely. He was studying art and literature – a mix of all things that lead to no profitable career paths unless one is exceptionally talented. Kuroko has only ever been average, and he’s always going to be average, so he knows his choices won’t lead him anywhere. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything else.

"I think everyone's stamina is really starting to improve lately! Even yours, Kuroko," Ogiwara grins at him, teasing, and though it makes Kuroko smile on the inside, his outward appearance remains neutral. It was like Ogiwara-kun to be so optimistic about everything, but especially so concerning their university basketball team.

"Now that we've learnt all the plays, it's just a matter of practicing them all together. Before we know it, we'll have them down and our offense will be even stronger!" Ogiwara declared, holding up a fist in determination as they entered the garden, paying their admission fee and walking in.

"That sounds good, Ogiwara-kun," Kuroko spoke softly, trying to match his friend's optimism but his brightness was lacking a little. But, like the best friend he was, Ogiwara didn't mind and grinned back at Kuroko as they took a spot near the water, sitting down and opening their drinks.

Ogiwara was a spot of light in his drudgery of a life, his best friend from elementary school and the only real friend he had. He’d convinced Kuroko to come to try-outs for the university’s basketball team, determined to play basketball with him on the same team at least once in their lives. His parents and his grandmother were wonderful, of course. Always there for him, always supporting him, but the weight of their love was sometimes too much for Kuroko to bear. When he was a continual disappointment, it reflected badly on them and he hated how he couldn’t be anything more than ordinary. 

Kuroko noticed a middle-aged woman that was dressed in a shawl and set up in a tiny stall close to where he and Ogiwara were seated. It didn’t look like she had a lot of money, or made a lot of sales…actually, Kuroko wasn’t even sure what she was selling. What Kuroko did notice was a group of teenage boys running past her, knocking into the stall and getting up only to exchange a quick look with each other before running away. Naturally, the woman had neither the speed nor the ability to catch up with them, so she was just left gathering up her things on the ground.

Glancing over at Ogiwara, he noticed that the other had witnessed the incident as well. He looked extremely displeased, and once he met Kuroko's gaze, the two exchanged a nod before walking over to help her.

"Are you alright, obaasan?" Ogiwara asked in concern, as the two of them crouched down and helped pick up the dream catchers (so that was what she had been selling) and various beaded bracelets.

"Yes, thank you. You're both very kind young men," she nodded thankfully at the two of them, with her gaze lingering on Kuroko just the slightest bit longer. Kuroko didn't say anything, only dutifully set everything back to the way it was, and untangling the small ball of bracelets that had ended up as a tangled mess on the grass.

"We're only doing what's right!" Ogiwara grinned, having picked up all the containers when something caught his eye, "Oh, looks like those kids are watching, I can see them hiding behind that tree! I'm gonna go talk to them! Be right back, Kuroko!"

"Ogiwara-kun, please wait-" Kuroko started, but it was no use. Ogiwara had already gotten too far away, and Kuroko couldn't go chasing after him and leave the woman to clean everything up by herself. Sighing softly, he finished untangling the bracelets and set them down in separate piles for the woman. When he looked up, he found her watching him again. Just when he was about to excuse himself to go sit down once more, she spoke.

“You look like you have something very heavy weighing on your mind,” the woman said, and it took Kuroko a moment to realise she was addressing him. When he only blinked at her, she continued, “Let me ask you, young man: have you ever wanted to sleep for a hundred or a thousand years?”

The question was completely random and out of the blue, yet the woman looked at him so knowingly, as if she could see past Kuroko's polite exterior to his exhausted, somewhat defeated inner self.

"I wonder, even if that were possible, would I be able to forget everything?" Kuroko answered back vaguely, his eyes sinking back into sadness as images of his teammates backs facing him flashed across his mind, “Although I say to myself, ‘I’m sure things will get better’, another thing goes wrong. In the end, I cannot fix anything no matter how hard I try. So, in that sense, yes. I would prefer to just fall asleep and not remember a thing.”

When she didn't speak back to him, Kuroko continued on, his uncapped feelings starting to flow, “My friends who had always been there for me are suddenly gone, just like that. I thought that if I didn’t change, the people I trusted and liked wouldn’t change either.”

A glimpse of familiar disillusioned, bored faces comes forth, and Kuroko smiles a weak, wry smile, “I was wrong, though.”

Staring down at his calloused, useless hands, Kuroko wasn't even sure he was speaking to the woman anymore, when he asked aloud, “How did it end up this way?”

“Your life can’t change just because you want it to. Maybe if you died and came back to life again,” she hummed, a distant gleam in her eyes as a light breeze set the dream catchers fluttering on their hooks. A few people were coming up to her, all eager-eyed and curious, so Kuroko bowed and made to take his leave.

"Excuse me," he muttered softly, heading back over to their spot only to find Ogiwara-kun wasn't back yet. Instead of sitting and waiting for him, Kuroko decides to stroll over to the waters edge. He noted a small footbridge leading out to the lake halfway, and a small child was wearing a life jacket and trying to board one of the boats. Kuroko glanced away, figuring the parents weren't far behind him and would join him soon.

It was when he heard a distinct splash! that he looked back, only to see the child had overbalanced and landed in the water. The child was clearly out of his depth and had put on the life jacket himself, incorrectly, and Kuroko felt panic grip him tightly.

 _Someone must have seen,_ he told himself, his hands clenching in fists as he surveyed the area, _surely somebody saw it first so by the time I get in the water he will already be out._ But, nobody was even looking in this direction. Kuroko didn’t have a clue as to who the boy’s parents were, and there was hardly enough time to go around asking. This was a life or death situation, and Kuroko’s moral standards would never allow him to sit by and let this happen!

And so, without anyone even noticing, he tore off his shoes and ran as fast as he could towards the water. He was wearing cotton shorts and a collared t-shirt, so he wouldn't have too much weighing him down. Jumping in, his body shuddered as the cold water seeped into his clothes and skin. Even though it was spring, the water was still fresh. Then, Tetsuya was swimming over to where the boy was struggling to stay afloat, wrapping an arm around him and treading water.

By that point, the boy’s parents had noticed and a man (Tetsuya assumed it was the boy’s father) had gotten into one of the small paddle boats and was coming out to help them. Once the boy was secured on the boat, the father turned back to him and extended his hand, calling, "Thank you! Here. grab on!" and just as Kuroko was about to reach out for him, his eyes caught a shadow crossing over the sun.

It was a total solar eclipse. Happening in broad daylight, totally unpredicted and unforeseen. Kuroko stared up at, ignoring the calls for him to grab the man’s hand. It didn’t seem like anyone else was seeing what Kuroko was seeing. It was too bright for his vision to stand it, so he slipped underneath the water to wait for it to pass.

But as soon as he went underwater, it was like some magnetic force was keeping him under. Helpless, all he could do was watch the solar eclipse with his eyes open underwater. It was still glowing so brightly, illuminating Kuroko in its white light that shone down on the earth.

Holding his breath for as long as he could, Tetsuya continued trying to resurface, resisting for as long as he could in hope that he could hold out until it was over. But the magnetic force was getting stronger, and when Tetsuya gasped for breath water flooded inside his mouth and down into his lungs. When he reflexively tried to cough to clear his airway, more water was flowing in, and Kuroko’s vision started going spotty.

What was happening? Was he really going to die like this? His life had been so short, and yet already filled with so much pain. Tetsuya couldn’t help but feel like it was rather a pathetic end, even if he had wished to sometimes close his eyes and never wake up. As his vision faded in and out, memories from his life flashed before his eyes. Most prominently, he remembered his basketball teammates (and former friends) from high school, and how they had all slowly broken apart.

_“Tetsu. It’s no good after all. The only one who can beat me is me,” Aomine’s fist dropped away, leaving Tetsuya hanging and watching as he ran further and further away down the basketball court._

_“We should no longer be combining our powers together,” Akashi’s words were cold and absolute, his eyes no longer filled with the warmth they used to have._

_“What are you talking about, Kurokocchi? It’s for amusement. Amusement,” Kise told him over his shoulder, smiling briefly and trying to be cheerful. But Kuroko could see his disillusionment as clear as day._

_“We’re finally at a point where it’s so easy to win that I have zero motivation,” Murasakibara drawled, staring at his locker boredly._

_“How all of you play does not matter to me, in fact. I just do everything I can personally do.” Midorima tells them, having already separated himself from even attempting team play long ago._

_“We’ll still all be together forever, right? We can continue to be friends and play together forever, right?” Momoi looked up at Tetsuya, a desperate kind of sadness and dread shining in her eyes, as if she already anticipated what would happen._

_“From that day, I haven’t received a pass from you. It was so recent, but it feels like the distant past already. I’ve…already forgotten even how to receive your passes,” Aomine’s face haunted his memories, and the feeling of his heart breaking in half was still just as fresh in Kuroko’s memory as the day it had happened._

With all the air gone from his lungs, Kuroko felt himself sinking down deeper and deeper into the water. His eyes couldn't stay open any longer, closing and he was in total darkness. Unbeknownst to anyone else, another total solar eclipse was taking place at the exact same time in Ancient Japan, with a masked man on his horse galloping across the plains. 

*

The next thing Kuroko knew, all of a sudden, he was resurfacing from underneath the water. It splashed around him as he stood up, soaking wet and his hair covering his eyes. Gasping for air, he wiped his face and eyes, pushing his wet hair out of the way. He felt something wet on his back and – wait, was that his hair? He had never grown his hair so long before, yet here it was, wet and sopping and extending down past his shoulders.

Looking down at his hands, his chest still heaving as he struggled to catch his breath, Kuroko noticed his clothes had changed as well – to an eggshell white kimono with a grey obi tied around his waist. The garden was gone, all the high rise buildings and groups of people in modern day Tokyo were nowhere to be seen. Instead, Kuroko was met with a tranquil, blooming garden that was beautiful, but had a certain...traditional feeling to it.

“Naruse-san! Naruse-san!”

Someone was calling out a name, and reflexively Kuroko's head swiveled over in the direction of the voice. There stood a man running around in all directions that had long, light brown hair tied in a plait down his back. He was wearing a plain grey kimino with a black obi tied around his waist, and sandals on his feet. Kuroko peered at him quizzically, his head still a little fuzzy. It felt like he had just waken up after a very long sleep and his brain was having trouble functioning at full capacity.

When the man caught sight of Kuroko's soaking form in the water, he gasped and hurried as close to the water's edge as he could, "Naruse-san, please come over here! I'm so sorry!"

Blinking at the other, and the strange name he was calling him, Kuroko wasn't really sure why he started wading forward over to the grassy edge. It obviously wasn't his name, and this man had mistaken him for someone else, but he wanted to get out of the water and he needed help in doing so in this state. When he was within reaching distance, the man immediately offered assistance to him, putting an arm around Kuroko's waist and helping him up onto the grass.

"Hurry! I'm so sorry, but we have to hurry and get you inside!" the man fretted, trying to walk as fast as he could with Kuroko staggering beside him.

He was semi-conscious and being supported by the young man with mousy brown hair as he led them back onto the main path. It all felt like some sort of strange dream, and the thought drifted through Kuroko's mind that perhaps...he had died. That he had drowned after saving that boy in the lake, and he was now in the afterlife. Kuroko's thought process turns fuzzy and he doesn't recall what happened after that. When he next woke up, he was in a dry, clean sleeping clothes with a cool wash cloth settled on his forehead.

Sitting up, Kuroko inhaled deeply and let it out slowly, rubbing his head and looking around the room. As soon as he looked to his left, he was met with the sight of someone in a mirror. And it took Kuroko a few long seconds to realise that the man staring back at him, was himself. Flinching at the strangeness and unfamiliarity of his appearance, Kuroko lifts his hand and waves, raising his eyebrows up and down to ensure the reflection is copying his actions. And it is, perfectly. His hair was no longer the unique shade of ice blue he always had. Now, it was snowy white and fell down to just below his shoulder blades, yet his piercing blue eyes were still reassuringly there. His body type sadly remained the same – that is, lean, small and very pale. He had no idea what age he might be, though he didn't seem much older or younger than his current age...well, the age he had been in his old body. Just what was going on? This didn't feel like a dream...

"N-Naruse-san! You're awake! Thank goodness!" it's the man from earlier, standing in the doorway with a cup of tea on a tray that he hurriedly sets aside as he approaches Kuroko.

“I’m sorry, but who are you referring to?” Kuroko asked, tilting his head to the side confusedly, "Naruse-san is not my name. I am Kuroko Tetsuya."

“Oh no, Naruse-san is injured worse than expected! This-This is awful! I fear you may have lost your memory!” the man says tearfully, and Kuroko feels bad for making him upset.

Still, he's uncertain what exactly is going on right now, so he asked further, “What do you mean? Injured?”

“Do you really not remember? You live in Genba-sama’s household. You were brought here after your parents passed away, as you had close connections to both Furuya Genba-sama and Aisawa Yuwa-sama from a young age,” the man explains, watching Kuroko's face closely for any sign of recognition and his eyes clouding in worry when he didn't see anything,“You went out for your daily stroll and when you didn’t come back after two hours, I started to worry for your safety. That’s when I found you at the lake.”

"I'm sorry for asking, but what is your name?" Kuroko requested, hoping he didn't come off as rude.

However, the man was shaking his head so rapidly that Kuroko was concerned he may be making himself dizzy, “N-No! No need for you to apologise, Naruse-san! I should be the one apologising, I am so sorry! My name is Eguchi Eisuke, a servant who serves under Genba-sama’s household,” Eisuke introduces himself, bowing respectfully at Kuroko who only blinks and bows his head back, unsure of what else he could do.

There was silence for a bit, as Kuroko tried taking all of this in.This person clearly knew him, knew this body and called Kuroko by a different name. This person was cared for, and out of curiousity, Kuroko wants to know more, “What is it that I…do? What is my job, here?”

“Um, Naruse-kun prepares tea for the household. You have many fine blends that many of the nobles enjoy. H-However, you may need to be excused from those duties for some time,” Eisuke says, regret tinging his tone as he takes in the sight of Kuroko sitting up in bed.

“What about training? Am I proficient with a sword, or any style of combat?” was Kuroko's next question, because he knew there were warriors in this period, samurai and the like that protected the people and the empire.

“Er…n-no. Due to your weak constitution, Naruse-san, it has been advised years since that you should avoid strenuous activity for long periods of time. Besides, there is no need for you to complete such training. You are well looked after and protected in Genba-sama’s household,” Eisuke says, clearly puzzled at hearing such a question from 'Naruse-san', which disappointed Kuroko. So, he was just as easily fatigued in this time period too.

“I see,” Kuroko said, his eyebrows slightly furrowed in thought.

Kuroko would need to look at changing that, once he had regained his strength. He could not let himself be a burden on anyone here, not like he had been in modern day Tokyo. If anything awful were to happen, he would be one of the ones fighting, not fleeing for cover. Then, the doors were opened and a woman with long, silky black hair tied up in an elegant plaited bun with the bottom part of her hair hanging down her back. She was beautiful, and wore a flowery, pale pink kimono tied with a purple obi.

“G-Greetings, Aisawa-sama!” Eisuke stuttered, bending into a hasty yet deep and respectful bow to the young woman who had just entered the room.

“Hello, Eisuke-kun,” she accepted his greeting, smiling towards him briefly before turning her worried eyes over to Kuroko, “I am here to check on Takeshi-kun. Where is he? Is he awake yet?”

"Greetings to you, Aisawa-sama," Kuroko greeted softly from the bed, and Yuwa gasped in surprise at seeing he was right in front of her.

This doesn't last long though, as her eyes light up at his use of her name as she promptly took a seat besides him on the bed, "Do you remember me now, Takeshi-kun?"

"I am sorry, I do not," he apologises, bowing his head towards her since she seemed like a very important lady and she was concerned over him.

"We had the physician come in and check on you while you were sleeping. Apparently, it seems you slipped on the rocks, fell into the lake and hit your head," she told him, speaking slowly and carefully, like she was afraid of scaring or upsetting him, "You were under the water for a very long time, and your brain had no ways to cope with the lack of oxygen. This explains why you can’t remember anything. What is it that you know already, Takeshi-kun?"

“My name is Naruse Takeshi. I am not of noble blood, but due to my parents’ close connections with both Furuya-sama and Aisawa-sama," Kuroko explained, going along with what these people have told him so far, hoping to get more information, "I do not know more than that."

"That is okay, it will definitely come back to you. It is the Edo Period, and the current emperor is Furuya Saburo-sama. He is father to the Shogun and next in line, Furuya Nobunaga-sama, and he has other sons who are Daimyos as well, such as Gen-chan,” Kuroko surmised this ‘Gen-chan’ was the same Genba-sama that allowed him to live in this household, “Since you have close connections to the royals and nobles, you are permitted to call them by first name. It may even become confusing if you call them all by ‘Furuya-sama’, Takeshi-kun.”

The Edo Period. Kuroko stared at his reflection in utter shock and disbelief. Was this even happening? Was this truly real? But no, even looking around the room, Kuroko sees nothing but traditional style furniture, and even the clothes Yuwa and Eisuke were wearing spoke volumes that he was no longer in a modern time period. Had he actually died...and come back to life? _Reincarnation,_ the word suddenly came to mind, and Kuroko's shoulders slackened as he once more took in his unrecognisable reflection. Did he drown during that total solar eclipse, and was now reborn for another chance at life? Was such a thing truly possible?

“I see. My apologies, Yuwa-sama. I will do my best to adjust to this,” he says in a soft voice, lowering his eyes and gripping the bed covers tightly.

“Oh, Takeshi-kun! You’re really trying hard!” Yuwa wrapped her hands around his, squeezing gently and warming them up, "Don't worry, Eisuke-kun and I will be right here with you during your recovery, and even after that. And even Gen-chan will help! We won't abandon you, I promise!"

Her sweet, kind-hearted demeanour reminded Kuroko of Momoi, for some reason her likeness and Momoi's were very similar in his mind. The way she fussed over him and tended to him when he hardly even remembered who she was just like how Momoi-san would be if Kuroko ever had amnesia. If Kuroko truly had been reborn, and the world he had always known was gone, then he had to make the best of what he had right now. If he could just get through this for the time being, then maybe…maybe he could find a way to return. If there was a way for him to come here, to Ancient Japan, then surely there was a way for him to go back to modern day Tokyo.

*

Unexpectedly, the first of the sons that Kuroko met properly was Genba. It was during the very same day he had come to this strange world. He was familiarizing himself with the household that he called his home, the household of Furuya Genba. Kuroko had slipped away from Eisuke, who was fretting over him far too much and coddling him like he was a baby deer incapable of moving about on his own. Still dressed in his bed clothes, Kuroko walked through the giant house, which was more like a small mansion.

When he walked past the lavish entryway of a bedroom, he heard rustling and stepped closer in curiosity. What he saw then was a tall, muscled man standing in what was clearly a woman's room. He had short black hair, tinged with blue when it was in the sunlight. His skin tone had a darker complexion, and he was at least 30 centimetres taller than Kuroko – maybe more. For some reason, his appearance reminded Kuroko of Aomine, and his chest clenched painfully just thinking of him.

But then Kuroko noticed the man was holding women's clothing in his hands, running his fingers all over them and eyeing them with an almost vulgar focus. Kuroko's insides heated up with mild anger at the sight of a pervert in action. Moreover, he feared this might be Yuwa-san's room, as he knew of no other woman of such a high standing that lived in this household. With his firm resolve holding strong, Kuroko squared his shoulders and entered the room.

When he was right behind the man, who was still closely examining the clothing, he spoke up in a clear, accusing voice, “Excuse me, what do you think you are doing?”

“G-GAAAAAH!” the man screeched, dropping the clothing all together and dropping into a crouch on the ground, with his hands over his head. When he managed to bring himself to open his tightly shut eyes, they widened upon seeing Kuroko.

“O-Oh, it’s only you Takeshi. Where did you come from? I thought you were a ghost for a moment there,” he said, picking up the clothing and standing back on his feet, a light flush on his cheeks.

Kuroko only narrowed his eyes at him, not buying the clueless, bashful act, “Are you trying to deflect from the issue? That will not work on me, I am not persuaded so easily.”

“What?” the other man asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“You should respect every woman’s right to privacy. Pawing through their clothing with the intent to steal it and relieve your sexual tension just because you are curious and hormonal is unacceptable," Kuroko does not pull any punches, blunt as usual even in the face of someone almost double his height (and certainly someone stronger than him).

“Hey, Takeshi. It’s me, Genba. You know me, right?” the other asked him, his lips twisting with the effort of holding back a smile. Kuroko was disgusted.

“Yes, as I live in Genba-sama’s househould, I suppose you must be Furuya Genba-sama," Kuroko conceded, bowing stiffly to the other and then staring at him directly once again, "However, this does not mean I will overlook any vulgar or inappropriate acts on your behalf. Do not expect any special treatment just because you are higher standing than I am."

There was a long pause, in which neither of them said anything more. And then, just as Kuroko is about to open his mouth and scold this person more, the man erupts into vibrant, annoyingly infectious laughter. He doubles over, clutching his stomach and closing his eyes, which crinkle at the corners from how wide he is smiling.

“Why are you laughing?” Kuroko asked, visibly nonplussed.

“This is just too funny!” the man exclaims, wiping away tears from his eyes that had formed from how hard he was laughing, “I was checking on the clothes for Yuwa. Since Yuwa is just like my own sister, I was only making certain that the clothes I had sent for her are the right size and have no defects."

Then, everything started to sink in for Kuroko, and he slowly looked up at the other in dreaded realisation, “I…have completely misunderstood the situation, haven’t I?”

“I heard you hit your head and lost all your memories. I was just on my way over to check on you, but it seems like you beat me to it,” Genba smiled at him warmly, no trace of accusation or offense at Kuroko's major mess-up.

“I apologise deeply for assuming the worst. I did not fully understand all the details, it is my fault,” Kuroko apologised promptly, bowing deeply and feeling the tips of his ears heat up. Surely, they were bright pink. _How embarrassing._

“Don’t worry about it! I never knew that you were so hilarious!” Genba laughed, his face happy and bright, that it eased a little of Kuroko’s anxiety. Now that he thought about it, that was the first time since coming here that Kuroko had seen someone smile at him so honestly. Genba smiled at him without any hidden agendas or pretences, hiding nothing behind those shining eyes.

“Come with me, will you? We can go for a walk and catch up,” Genba was still smiling at him, and before Kuroko could even consider politely declining, he had offered his arm out for Kuroko to take.

Hesitantly, Kuroko lifted his arm and rested it on top of Genba’s. Immediately, the warmth of the other’s skin seeped into his own. Genba’s arm was strong and solid, and Kuroko felt at ease holding onto it. He made sure not to curl his fingers too tightly around Genba’s wrist and nodded at the other when he was ready to start walking. It was comforting, being in this man's presence, and Kuroko felt that he was glad he had ended up in this household.

*

The next royal son he met was Haruuchi. His hair was a brownish-black, and he wore it in a ponytail that trailed down his back. He was currently laughing at something he had said himself, and overall he seemed to have a very carefree air about him. Kuroko had been out exploring around Genba's household, and it was when he came across a gazebo that he noticed the man drinking tea, surrounded by three other people - likely to be his servants. Kuroko stopped when he heard a choking and coughing sound, stepping closer so he could survey the situation.

“This tea is terrible! It’s completely undrinkable!” the man screwed up his face, whining loudly and looking at his servants in utmost disappointment.

“Our deepest apologies, Haruuchi-sama," the head servant apologised, and the three of them bow lowly in respect.

“I simply cannot drink this,” Haruuchi bemoans, then upends his tea cup and lets the tea spill onto the ground, “Bring me another! And make sure it’s better this time,” he demands, shoving the now empty cup at them and sighing heavily. 

Kuroko's legs were already moving, taking him closer and closer to the entitled young noble until he was right beside him, “You should not talk down to those who are looking after you."

“W-Waaah! Wh-Where did you come from, Takeshi-kun?”

“I have been standing here a while, long enough to see the way you treated the people who serve you. Can’t you speak more politely to them?” Kuroko said, speaking up even as the servants shook their heads discreetly from behind Haruuchi. 

“Oh, really? But wait, I don’t respect them. They’re not on my level, so there’s no reason for me to talk to them nicely. This is what they deserve," Haruuchi declared obnoxiously, stepping up to Kuroko and staring down at him.

Kuroko, used to people underestimating him and treating him in such a manner, was undeterred, “Who are you to decide that? If everyone was to be judged by you if they are respectable or not, that doesn’t seem fair at all.”

Haruuchi scoffed, waltzing past him and clearly unimpressed, “What do I care about that? You’re not even a proper royal, so you’re lucky I’m letting you off easy. If you keep talking, though, I won’t let it go.”

But Kuroko didn't miss a beat, walking out of the gazebo as well and stopping to demand as politely as he could, “Please apologise to them first. All of them, individually.”

“A royal apologises to a servant? Hahaha! How ridiculous would I look? I have no desire to do so, and I’m getting bored with this conversation now,” Haruuchi laughed over his shoulder at him, shaking his head as he continued on without a care in the world.

Not having it, Kuroko chased after him, lifting up his kimino from the ground as he ran so he wouldn't trip. He tugged on Haruuchi's extravagant sleeve roughly to gain his attention, “Wait a moment, please stop. I’m asking you to apologise, since you are in the wrong-”

“You’re as big as a rice grain! Seriously, enough!” Haruuchi shoved him, and being as slight as he was, Kuroko fell down in a heap on the hard pavement. For a fraction of a second, Haruuchi looked guilty, but he shook his head and marched off in the other direction. 

Not one to stay down even if he was pushed to, Kuroko gathers himself up on his feet and hurries after the man. Then, when he is least expecting it, Kuroko delivers a sharp jab to his right side. 

“Wh-What was that!?” Haruuchi startled, his head darting in every direction until it lands on Kuroko's small form.

Kuroko huffed, dusting off his robes but ignoring the dirt on his face, “It is rude to leave when someone is still speaking.”

“How dare you treat your royal like this!” Haruuchi exclaims, clutching his side where Kuroko had jabbed him before straightening up and leaping forward, trying to return a jab to Kuroko's ribs.

Luckily, thanks to his misdirection and basketball reflexes, Kuroko dodged his attack easily. This then led to the two of them scuffling around, trying to land a blow on the other whilst trying to avoid getting hurt themselves. When Haruuchi's hand hooked onto the back of his robes and yanked him back, making him stumble, Kuroko would pinch whatever skin his hands landed on, making the other yelp in pain.

They had a crowd forming around them. All of the other royal sons had gathered to watch this unorthodox, unprecedented fight.

“That is enough,” a fine-boned man with blood red hair announced, stepping forward between them effortlessly and ending the fight immediately, "Takeshi has just been in accident, we cannot have this kind of behaviour going on."

"Chikara-sama!" Yuwa gasped, and that was the first time Kuroko had met the brother called Chikara. The man certainly had a powerful presence about him.

“He is well enough to initiate it, so I think it’s more than fine, brother!” Haruuchi countered, his previously perfect hair now messed up and dirty.

When Haruuchi tried to step forward and land another blow on Takeshi, a very tall and built man with dark grey hair moved forward and grabbed onto his arm, holding him back, “You shouldn’t pick fights, Uchi, or Kara will get mad at you again.”

“The servants are beginning to stare. Will you keep this up?” a man with brownish-green hair asked, standing by his other side. Haruuchi glanced around to find that indeed, everyone was looking at them expectantly.

"Akito and Shigeru are right," Genba stepped forward, and Kuroko realised those were the other two young nobles of the Furuya family. He did not believe he would have the chance to meet all of them so soon, but here they were, "stop making a scene, Haruuchi. You're always showing off like this."

"Hmph! I do not care anymore! Do what you want!" and with that, Haruuchi marched away from them, messed up hair and wrinkled clothes and all, tromping off without looking back once. Kuroko was reminded of a child throwing a tantrum when they didn't get their way. _Almost similar to the way Kise-kun was needlessly flashy and wanting all eyes on him,_ Kuroko thought to himself.

"Takeshi-kun needs a new set of clothes! Eisuke-kun!" Yuwa called for the servant as she took Takeshi by the hand, with Eisuke hurrying behind them as they returned back to his room. He shared a look with Genba on his way past, and was relieved to see not disappointment, but amusement on his face. It looked as if Genba was trying very hard not to laugh, and that made Kuroko's insides unclench and soon enough he was biting back his own smile.

*

“Naruse-kun is quite interesting, isn’t he?” Chikara asks, extending a finger slowly towards the peony flower a butterfly was currently exploring. 

They were taking a walk in the garden, as Chikara liked taking leisure walks at least once a day. Sometimes, he desired company, and that is where Okayama Hirofumi comes into it. Hired as one of the personal servants in Chikara’s household, Hirofumi had only served him for roughly a year but it seemed Chikara had taken some sort of liking to him. He roped Hirofumi into doing more tasks for him than the other servants.

“I have not spoken with him all that much, truthfully. I think his presence and mine do not meld well together,” Hirofumi answers, carefully selecting his words. He didn’t want to lie (Chikara would figure it out in a heartbeat even if he attempted it), but he didn’t want to show any blatant dislike towards the young man Naruse Takeshi.

“Oh? Perhaps it is because you are so similar,” Chikara counters, leaning in to smell the sweet scent of various flowers in bloom, “You both have a quiet presence and are straightforward in your speech and actions. Do you fear you may be replaced?”

Hirofumi didn’t have anything to say to that, and his hesitance caused Chikara to chuckle softly in amusement.

“Let me assure you that any fears you may be harbouring are misplaced. You are no sot easily expendable, Okayama-san,” the butterfly flutters away from the flower, and tentatively settles on the tip of Chikara’s still outstretched finger. 

And Chikara may be of noble, royal blood, but Hirofumi swore he could act like a spoiled child used to getting his way in any and all things. He did not know for what purpose Chikara kept him at his side, other than his daily duties to tend to. However, whenever Chikara smiled at him in these times, it did not seem mocking. Perhaps Chikara was under some notion that they were friends, to which Hirofumi would never agree with. Chikara was just a lonely royal who used his power to his advantage in order to get what he wanted. 

*

Eisuke and two other servants had dressed him this morning, and it was the strangest feeling to have other people dress you. Kuroko was wearing a beautiful, patterned [kimono](https://www.flickr.com/photos/182499414@N08/49321398971/in/dateposted-public/) coloured white and blue with leaves and flowers printed all over it. It was tied together with a maroon obi, and although it wasn't Kuroko's first time wearing a kimono, it was the first time he had worn such a traditional one with various layers. He felt like a penguin walking around, all stiff and slow.

Wanting to be of some help, he had offered to go into the markets to buy some tangerines, as they had just entered season and were much sought after in the city. What Kuroko hadn't expected was the hustle and bustle he would find there, and the difficulty his misdirection would cause him. People bumped into him left, right, and centre, and some of them were carrying heavy loads with them, which only made it all the more painful to be bumped into. Just when Kuroko had finally managed to ask and pay for the tangerines, he had to make it out of the crowd with the tangerines in the bowl. However, this was a fruitless endeavour, because as soon as he weaved his way out of the crowd, his feet slipped over a loose spot of gravel. While he maintained his balance, the bowl overbalanced in his hands, and tangerines were upended into the air, rolling around on the ground in one big orange mess. Sighing softly, Kuroko kneels down to pick them back up, uncaring that his robes were getting dirtied by the ground. 

But then, another commotion started up, with the crowd speaking louder and more anxiously.

"It's the Wild Tiger!" a woman shrieked, just as Kuroko stood up. He left the refilled bowl full of tangerines on the ground for the moment, just to check what was going on.

"Everyone, move! The Wild Tiger is coming through!" a man yelled, fear quaking in his voice as everyone hurried around and rushed to move off the main pathway.

Standing on his tiptoes, Kuroko tries to see what they are all talking about, though he hears the sound of a horse galloping first. Then, a man dressed in black [robes](https://www.flickr.com/photos/182499414@N08/49321611927/in/dateposted-public/) with a mask covering half of his face comes into view, thundering up the street on his horse. He's making people and vendors scatter and hurry to move their wares out of the way, without even saying a word. Kuroko tried to move out of the way as well, but people were running all around him, and someone inevitably knocked into him. Losing his balance, Kuroko toppled over backwards and felt his foot slip over the edge of the rocky, steep riverbank. Surely, he would fall, and he didn't know if he'd make it out of this one as lucky as his last near-death situation.

[His back](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P60Y45krDF4) landed against a solid forearm, and Kuroko felt a strong hand grab onto the side of his waist tightly. When he could finally focus his vision, he found himself face to face with the man on his horse. His eyes were like liquid rubies, burning and intense the way he looked at him. With their eyes still locked, the man lifted him up away from the edge of the riverbank and onto the horse with him. Kuroko felt his feet leave the ground as he was lifted, and his hands automatically raised to hold onto the broad shoulders for support, squeezing tightly from the suddenness of it all.

The man was clearly very strong, having hauled Kuroko onto the horse with one arm that was now wrapped around his waist with the other still holding onto the reins. The horse continued galloping, while the two stared at each other. For someone with such a dangerous aura about him, the man had been the only one to come to his aid. This man...he had saved Kuroko’s life. 

The man then slowed the horse into a trot, eventually getting the animal to stop once they were a safe distance away from the riverbank. Kuroko stared into his eyes, trying to find the right words to say. But before he could even open his mouth, the man shoved him from his spot on the horse to fall on the ground like a sack of potatoes. Kuroko hit the ground hard, landing on his side in a heap and emitting a gasp of pain and shock at the suddenness of it all. The man was glaring down at Kuroko like an annoying bug that had gotten in his face.

Then, he makes the horse start to walk, and Kuroko realises the man intends to leave just like that. Without resolving the issue or apologising for anything.

“Please, hold on a moment!” he calls out from his crumpled heap on the ground, and the man halted his horse and peered down at Kuroko upon hearing his voice.

Kuroko staggers to his feet, unwilling to let this go as he struggles to stand up after such a fall. He has a hand pressed against his side that crashed onto the ground, trying to relieve some of the throbbing pain he felt there.

“Please apologise, whenever you are ready,” Kuroko said, asking politely but with little expression in his words.

“Huh?” the man asked rudely, looking at him as if he had grown a second head, “Apologise? What for? Saving your life?”

“I am a person, not an object. You cannot throw me around as such,” Kuroko tells him firmly, standing up straight with his eyes glaring determinedly up at the other man.

He scoffs loudly, laughing mockingly at Kuroko’s words, “Are you serious?”

Kuroko nodded once, “Yes, I am. Please apologise not only to me, but the other merchants and villagers near the side of the road as well. You have given them quite a fright, unnecessarily so.”

“If I knew you were insane, I should have let you fall. Get lost,” with one last demeaning look in Kuroko’s direction, the man yanks on the reins hard and sets off, his horse galloping away into the distance.

“Excuse me, please wait! I am not finished!” Kuroko raised his voice, yelling as loud as he could, but the man did not stop this time.

Kuroko could not fathom the utter arrogance and disrespect the people of this time possessed, particularly the men. They acted like rules and common courtesies didn’t apply to them, that it was beneath them to follow such social etiquettes.

A middle-aged man came rushing up to him, gripping Kuroko’s arm tightly and looking at him with fear in his face, “What were you thinking, young man?”

“People like that must be told when they are acting inappropriately. If nobody calls them out for their behaviour, then they will just continue on like that, thinking that what they are doing is fine,” Kuroko explained, his eyes drifting away from the retreating stranger to meet the man's anxious eyes.

Gasping with a hand over his mouth, his lips tremble as he asks him, “Are you crazy? That is Matsuda Junichi! The Wild Tiger!”

“The Wild…Tiger?” he parrots back, never having heard someone with such a title mentioned before.

“The bastard son of the Furuya family. He’s a monster! You’re lucky you got away with your life!” he despairs, shaking his head and hurrying away from Kuroko.

There was another son born under the Furuya family? Kuroko hadn’t even known about this man’s existence until now, he was sure that nobody had said his name even once. That meant he was brothers with Genba and the others. But then, why did he look so wild and…different from them? The woman had said he was the ‘bastard’ son…did she mean it as an insult, or was she referring to the potential illegitimacy of his birth?

Ever since coming here, Kuroko felt he was filled with nothing but questions. And Kuroko knew he had a curious nature, so he wouldn't deny he wanted to find out as many answers as possible. And that included finding out just who Matsuda Junichi really was, and what had caused such a rift between him and his other brothers. He still wanted to return to his own world, but for the time being, Kuroko had to make the best of what he had. If he was here, he wouldn't live his life here as some clueless ward floating around his royal household. Kuroko would gather his courage, and live this life in the way he believed was right and true - no matter what stood in his way.


	2. New Normal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Long time, no see! ^^" I have been busy with my final year of university - that which has now been impacted due to the virus. I am still able to study and complete my assessment tasks, however it's been modified to all be online now so I've just been adjusting to that. I hope you're all doing your best to adjust too, my thoughts are with you all I hope you're all taking care and staying safe *virtual hugs*
> 
> Anyway, since I was able to find the time (+ the motivation lol) I finished the next chapter! Thank you so much for all your support and I hope you enjoy going on this story with me! :)

His ability with preparing tea was one he was yet to attempt, since Eisuke and Yuwa were adamant he should wait a few more days to see if he will remember anything more, as well as giving him time to readjust to the royal household in general. Truthfully, Kuroko was mildly concerned for when that would come up. Though his mother and father had both been avid tea drinkers and thus knew how to prepare it in the traditional way, Kuroko had yet to learn such skills. The most experience he had with making tea was putting tea leaves into a tea pot and adding boiling water from the kettle.

In the Edo period, there were no electrical outputs thus no kettles which meant no instant boiling water. The tea leaves would not be sealed in a plastic bag but would have to be selected and made into blends.

Despite following Eisuke’s instructions as best he could, Kuroko confirmed that his tea making skills were below average. _Very_ below, if the grimace that Eisuke is trying to conceal from him is any indication.

“D-Do not worry, Naruse-san. We will just have to learn from the beginning,” Eisuke hurriedly reassured him, patting a dejected Kuroko’s back as they disposed of the tea, “Though my and the other servants’ tea blends are nowhere near as palatable as yours, we can take care of the preparation for both Genba-sama and Aisawa-sama. During spare moments, I will do my best to help you relearn the basics!”

“Won’t I be unable to live here if I cannot prepare the tea?” Kuroko asked, worried that his role here would become obsolete before he had even settled in properly.

“F-Forgive me, but it was you, Naruse-san, who made the request to prepare tea for the household long ago,” Eisuke informed him, immediately lifting a weight off his shoulders, “However, Genba-sama and Aisawa-sama would have no complaints if you simply lived here without performing any duties, as you used to when you were younger.”

Despite his relief, Kuroko definitely could not abide by that. Relearning how to prepare the tea at an above average standard would be his long-term goal, but in the meantime, there had to be something he could do to make himself useful.

“I look forward to relearning everything from you, Eguchi-kun. I will be in your care,” Kuroko regards him with a bow, which seems to fluster the servant as he tries to make Kuroko come out of it without actually touching him. 

“To fill in your time, you can go to Genba-sama’s household library if you so wish. It is filled with many books, if you find yourself interested in reading,” Eisuke offered kindly, although he seemed a little shy doing so. As if it wasn’t his place to suggest such a thing, and he was awaiting a scolding.

Kuroko would do no such thing, and instead nodded, “Thank you, Eguchi-kun. If you no longer need my assistance, then I will be on my way to do some reading.”

And that was how Kuroko ended up in the small library over the next day. In between his tea lessons, he read as much as he could. He had just finished a book detailing the history of weaponry in battle for samurai and other warriors, and it was quite interesting. As he moved to return the book to its shelf, he was greeted with Genba’s face peeking at him in the open space where the book belonged.

“Genba-sama,” Kuroko’s eyes widened, and watched Genba shoot him a mischievous little smile as he stepped out from behind the bookshelf and moved closer to Takeshi, “what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to check on you, and this is where Eisuke said you’d probably be,” Genba told him, plucking the book out of his hands and flipping through it idly. Kuroko watched him and felt a niggle of happiness knowing the man had come searching for him. From letting Kuroko live in his household to giving him his company, Genba had been truly kind to him even though he had ‘lost’ his memories.

Catching onto his silence, Genba glanced up from the book, his smile turning amused as a knowing glint entered his eye, “Ah, I think that I know what you’re thinking. Well, it’s true. My library is not very impressive. I like reading about history, but I do not really have much interest beyond that!”

“No, that is okay. I have been enjoying the books, Genba-sama,” Kuroko, or Takeshi (he found himself alternating between the names, although it could be confusing at times), hurried to correct him, but he was met with a merry laugh as Genba ruffled his hair.

“You know, Shigeru has a much wider variety of books available at his household. His library is truly magnificent, I should take you there so you can see for yourself,” he offered easily, as if it was no hassle at all to carve out time in his day for Takeshi that he hadn’t planned on.

Though his heart warmed at his thoughtfulness, Kuroko has to ask him out of consideration, “Are you sure that will be okay? I do not want to be troublesome to anyone.”

“Of course, it will be fine! There is no way Shigeru would refuse me, we’re brothers after all!” Genba grinned at him, and Kuroko already felt more at ease.

Returning the weaponry book to its shelf, Genba held out his arm towards Takeshi, “Come on, I will escort you over and explain everything to him in person. Do you think you will be able to manage walking the entire way, Keshi?”

_Keshi? As in, Takeshi?_

A fond nickname – a nickname that implied he was cared for, that he was being thought of as more than just a guest or a friend. That he was a close friend and had someone who considered him as such. It reminded him again of Aomine, who had called him ‘Tetsu’, so simply and with such a pure smile.

Wrapping his arm around Genba’s, he nodded and took a step forward, “Yes, I am gaining strength more and more with each day.”

And seeing the honestly happy, relieved look on Genba’s face upon hearing that, Kuroko knew that his strength was not just coming from himself.

Roughly half an hour later, they had made it to Shigeru’s residence. Before they could even announce themselves, the man had burst out of the doors and greeted them both with such disapproval it was almost palpable. He eyed Kuroko for almost a minute, then gave the same treatment to his brother.

“Genba, why do you always show up unannounced? It is highly disruptive to me,” Shigeru skipped over the greetings, addressing his brother directly with annoyance laced in his tone.

For his part, Genba seemed unbothered, waving him off as he toed off his sandals, “You were only studying, weren’t you? Then, this is like a break!”

“I decide when I have a break. Come this way, do not make a ruckus or drag your feet. Tell me, what brings you here?” and with that, Shigeru turned and started walking. Exchanging an amused and exasperated smile with Takeshi, Genba helped him up the stairs and they followed after Shigeru as they were told.

“Keshi has already read through most of my book collection, and I was hoping you may be able to lend him some of yours,” Genba explained, as they approached what Kuroko knew to be the library. Indeed, even from the outside, it was on a larger scale than Genba’s.

“That does not surprise me. Your range is severely limited, Genba. History is indeed important, but there are many more areas in which you can seek valuable and useful knowledge,” Shigeru chided, and the servants opened the doors wide for them as they entered.

“I would rather use that time increasing my sword handling skills. You know that is where my true talent lies, Shigeru,” Genba retorted back, stretching his arms up over his head in a carefree manner. Kuroko observed the inside of the library, stunned at seeing the walls covered in books and scrolls of all shapes and sizes.

“Hmph. Do as you will,” Shigeru led them to where the desk tables were, in the middle of the room, and turned to face them, “Takeshi, you are permitted to browse through my household’s library. Take as many books as you wish, but make sure you return them. When you finish them, you may also borrow other ones that interest you.”

“Thank you very much for your kindness, Shigeru-sama. I am very grateful to be able to read from your collection,” he bowed deeply, meaning the gratitude from his heart.

Kuroko had never been more thankful for his Japanese literature roots than he was now. His polite mannerisms and overly formal language have helped him fit more easily into the mould of this ancient time period. It was a relief he would not be perceived as illiterate, and he knew both the traditional and modern characters of Japanese, so writing any letters or the like would be easy for him.

“I have forgotten so much, and there is so little I can do now. But, I can still read and write just like I always have,” he said, earning an endeared smile from Genba as Shigeru raised his eyebrows questioningly, “It brings me comfort, since I am not living up to any expectations. I can just be who I am.”

There was a slight pause, and just as Kuroko was about to begin browsing, Shigeru moved over to the shelves and began moving between them. He was gradually gathering a small pile in his arms, and when Kuroko turned to Genba for an explanation, he was met with equal confusion.

Eventually, Shigeru returned, depositing the books on the desk table in front of Takeshi, “Here are some of my personal recommendations of mine. Mostly factual, but it may help your memory to read them. Also, this collection of poems is good for light reading.”

“Thank you very much, Shigeru-sama. Though it seems you have a fondness for heavy books, I will make sure to read every line until the end,” Kuroko did not hold back on his honesty, but he at least tried to cushion it with a compliment towards the other. His remark earned a hearty chuckle from Genba, whilst Shigeru’s lips thinned.

“Even with your memory gone, it still won’t be that easy for us to get along,” Shigeru sighed, then exited the room as swiftly as he had entered it.

There was certainly a resemblance to Midorima in this man. Whilst Midorima would consistenly claim that he and Kuroko were fated to be unable to get along due to their clash in blood types, he would still do things for Kuroko that fell outside the realm of his duties as a teammate – although Midorima always came up with excuses. Like telling Kuroko specifically on days when Aquarius had the worst luck, and where he could acquire his lucky item if need be.

Likewise, Shigeru had been blunt that their personalities would likely clash, but still offered valuable recommendations to Kuroko and allowed him to use his library. Covering an act of kindness with cold and seemingly distant words was oddly endearing, and Kuroko could most certainly deal with it. Of course, he’d had experience with those types of people before.

_*_

“How dare Takeshi-kun lay a hand on me! My poor ribs have been wrongly abused!” Haruuchi complained, rubbing at the left side of his stomach and grimacing.

He was relaxing (or at least trying to!) in the sun in his household’s garden, with his favourite sweets and tea and yet his mood was still a little sour. It had been a day since Takeshi had jabbed him, but he still felt a dull throbbing pain. Those tiny hands were stronger than they looked!

“Kasuke-san, you’re not listening!” he whined, glancing over in the direction of his tutor, Nakamura Kasuke, who was sitting with an open book and a thinly veiled impatience in the dip of his brow.

Being a tutor to someone like Furuya Haruuchi is an honour. This is the answer Kasuke gives when anyone asks him directly. But in his mind, he wishes he can kick some sense into that brattish royal sometimes. He realised that all thoughts of studying were out of Haruuchi’s head now, and if there was even a slight chance of bringing him back on track, then Kasuke would have to indulge him for a while.

“If you want Naruse-san to get punished, then go tell the emperor and he will make sure it is taken care of,” he advised, offering a direct solution since Haruuchi had the tendency to be wishy-washy. It might not be the solution Haruuchi wants, but it will surely get him thinking more concretely about the path he wants to take.

“I-I don’t want Takeshi-kun to get punished. It’s not like I’m that badly hurt, after all…” Haruuchi trailed off, averting his eyes sheepishly. Then, he straightened his shoulders and cleared his throat before continuing, “It’s just, he’s different. Usually he’s so passive and blank-faced, so why is he being so bold all of a sudden?”

“He’s been in an accident, Haruuchi-sama, one that affected his brain and his memory,” Kasuke empathised, Of course, he will seem like a different person. He must feel as if he barely knows himself, let alone anyone else.”

“That’s…I didn’t think of it like that,” Haruuchi frowns, “poor Takeshi-kun. Maybe…maybe I should go check on him, and grace him with my wonderful presence. Surely, he would appreciate that, right?”

“Shall we end our lesson here for today, then?” though Kasuke asked out of courtesy, he was already closing the book. He had known Haruuchi for two years now, and he knew him well.

And inevitably, Haruuchi responded in kind, “Yes! I must make time to see Takeshi-kun! I am sure he will be so glad to see me! I need to return to my room and rearrange my duties over the next few days at once!”

*

Kuroko was out walking in the markets. He had offered to buy some food items for the household, since Eisuke and the other servants had an increased workload due to Takeshi being unable to prepare any edible tea. Eisuke had almost begged him not to, until Kuroko had brought up that the physician wanted him to exercise for at least 20 minutes a day to help regain his strength. He promised Eisuke and the other servants that it would not inconvenience him at all to do his exercise and at the same time do the shopping and they were all very grateful. Kuroko was glad to be helpful, even if it wasn’t much. 

Having gathered the necessary supplies, Kuroko was now taking a little extra time to wander around the market stalls. Not intending to buy, of course (he wasn’t quite sure of his financial status, but he wanted to play it safe for now), but simply the act of browsing from stall to stall. It was a comforting, familiar activity that remained the same no matter what time period it was.

“Please, feel free to look. These hair pins are made from the highest quality gems and jewels on the common market,” an old woman’s kindly voice called out as he approached her stall, that was filled with beautiful hair pins and clips. His gaze drifted up, and as soon as his eyes landed on her, recognition flooded his mind.

_That woman is the person I saw before I died._

With a new sense of urgency, Kuroko stepped forward closer, drawing her gaze to his as he spoke, “Obaasan, do you remember me?”

She regarded him with an openly curious expression, confusion colouring her tone as she addressed him with an apologetic dip of her head, “I am sorry, young man. I do not believe I have met you before today.”

“Please, take a good look at me. We talked together in Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden, isn’t that so?” Kuroko persisted, because he just knew he couldn’t be wrong about this. It was the same woman, without a doubt. Her hair and her clothes might be different, but her face and that voice…he couldn’t forget things like those.

Her eyes lit up, a flicker of hope going through Kuroko, “Oh, you are the boy who is under the care of Furuya-sama and Aisawa-sama’s household, right?”

“I am, but you knew me before this. I did not look like this back then,” he explained, not giving up on trying to help her remember, “It wasn’t in Edo. Well, no, it is, but…it’s in about 420 years from now, by a lake in a park.”

“You should be careful,” her voice suddenly lowered, and her face turned serious. The unexpected reaction made Kuroko’s eyes widen in shock. Pulling her face back into a more neutral expression, she continued, “In the royal household and the palace, you must always watch what you say. It is a place where speaking freely can be dangerous. Especially regarding the throne and the royal family. If you ended up living here, you should abide by the norms here. Your life can’t change just because you want it to,” she told him cryptically, and just then a flashback to his past life played in Kuroko’s mind.

_“Your life can’t change just because you want it to. Maybe if you died and came back to life again,” she hummed, a distant gleam in her eyes as a light breeze set the dream catchers fluttering on their hooks._

She smiled knowingly at him and was then distracted by a customer that was ready to make a purchase. Her attention shifted and just like that, it was the end of their conversation. Kuroko sighed, disappointed, as he turned and made his way back from the city. He hadn’t known what he’d expected by speaking with the woman, but any illusion that he would find answers was deftly extinguished.

As he made his way past the palace training grounds, his eyes catch sight of a familiar figure.

It was the man from the horse. No, the man that had _pushed_ Kuroko off his horse, like he was a piece of soft luggage. _Matsuda Junichi,_ Kuroko remembered the name that man had uttered to him in fear. He had fiery dark hair, black with streaks of dirty, dark red all through it. Unlike the royals’ hair that was long and combed, as was the style during this time, Matsuda’s hair was cropped and wild. There was no taming it, the way it flared around his head rebelliously.

“I-I am so sorry, Matsuda-sama. We-We do not have enough targets for you to use!” the servant stuttered out fearfully, shoulders hunched as she bowed her head apologetically.

“Not enough? What the hell are you talking about!?” Junichi roared, fisting the poor servant’s robes and lifting her off the ground.

If there was something Kuroko could not stand, it was people using their power to make those below them cower and submit to their every whim. And when it was too hard for those being picked on to stand up for themselves, then Kuroko would step in and teach the bullies a lesson. And so, he moved closer and closer until he was right behind the ill-tempered man and poised himself for his attack as he cleared his throat.

“Excuse me, please calm down,” and Kuroko delivered his words with a firm knock to the back of Matsuda’s knees, unbalancing him and unintentionally making him release the servant from his death grip. Making haste, the servant bowed deeply, quickly, and scurried away before anyone else could say a word.

“You bastard. Do you want me to kill you right here, right now?” Junichi growled malevolently, striding up into Kuroko’s space and glaring down at him.

Kuroko did not so much as flinch, never one to be intimidated by others looking down on him, “You should not lose your temper at others who are only doing their best. If you are so displeased by their work, then you can certainly undertake the task yourself. Then, perhaps you will be able to complete it at a level you are satisfied with.”

“Then, what is the point of even having servants? You speak nothing but nonsense to me!” he groused, looking ready to throw Kuroko to the ground– _again._ He didn’t, though. Instead, he ground his teeth together and spun around, about to storm off.

Without hesitating, Kuroko blocked his path, standing in front of him, “Wait, before you leave, you should find the servant you were talking to and apologise first. Your tone was quite forceful, and you physically assaulted her.”

Junichi’s expression was dumbfounded, like he didn’t know what to make of the words Kuroko had strung together in a sentence, “Who _are_ you?” 

“I am Naruse Takeshi,” Kuroko answers, figuring it was now or never to boldly assert his name right here and right now. Even if he still felt like and remembered he was Kuroko Tetsuya, that person did not exist yet in history.

Junichi curls his upper lip, growling back at him, “Not your name. What is your rank?”

“What does that have to do with anything? Will you only apologise if I have noble blood running through my veins? That does not seem very fair,” Takeshi huffs, irritated at such a narrow, wrong mindset. All people were equal, and he had grown up in a world where that right was basic knowledge. Those who abused it and treated people as slaves were punished and looked down upon by modern society.

Shaking his head once, Kuroko fixed the other with a stern, unyielding gaze, “Anyway, this has nothing to do with status. This is about basic manners.” 

“You’re the one speaking out of turn,” Junichi countered, glowering at him. Takeshi paid it no mind.

“The higher standing you are, the more you should care about justice and fairness. Please learn how to recognise when it is your fault,” he explained while he crossed his arms, as if he was scolding to a small child.

“You want me to apologise to you?” Junichi asked, a maniac edge to his smile that didn’t deter Kuroko for a second.

He nodded firmly, “Yes, whenever you are ready.”

“Fine. Just so you know, though, if you hear me tell you ‘I’m sorry’, then I’ll have to kill you,” Junichi’s voice had lowered to a threatening growl, the smile wiped from his face and his furious eyes fixed on Takeshi. For his part, Takeshi only stared at him, his eyes wide and blinking as if this were a normal conversation. So, Junichi slowly continued, “But, that’s okay, right?”

“Then, I’m s–” Seizing the moment, Kuroko slowly looked over to his left. The moment he caught Junichi’s gaze waver he took his chance and walked off in the other direction.

As soon as Junichi refocused his gaze, he jolted at the empty space in front of him.

“What!? Where is he!?” He pondered aloud, those unusually wide eyes a searing image in his mind. Blinking a couple of times, they soon disappeared, and he pursed his lips.

“Naruse Takeshi?” then, Junichi huffed a scornful laugh, shaking his head. _That sure is one audacious brat, ridiculing me like that even after I saved his life._

Well, it would have to wait until later. Junichi was already late–not that he cared, but he would rather get this whole thing over with. The sooner he didn’t have to deal with those royal pains, the better.

*

“How much longer are we going to wait?” Genba asked irritably, the five royal brothers and Yuwa gathered in a room in the palace.

“Nobunaga-san asked specifically for us all to be here. We will wait for Junichi, no matter how long it takes,” Chikara informed, reading over a scroll – as diligent as ever, even in his downtime, “Nobunaga-san has also not arrived yet, so curb your patience Genba.”

Genba scoffed at the words, “I will gladly wait for Nobunaga, but my tolerance is severely low whenever anything involves _him_.”

“I agree with Gen. Even though none of us share the same mother, I still consider all of you close to me as if we had the same parents. But that feeling just isn’t there for Junichi,” Haruuchi sighed, pushing his long ponytail over his shoulder.

Shigeru nodded, closing his eyes and crossing his arms, “He does have a tendency to ruin the mood.”

At that very moment, the door to the sitting room is banged open, and the sound of heavy footsteps are heard. A few seconds later, a head of dark, fiery hair lumbers through the door, along with the rest of him. Matsuda Junichi took a moment to survey the room itself, eyes moving slowly around the new area, before settling on the other royals in the room.

“Ah! You have arrived, Junichi-sama,” Yuwa greeted, a bright but nervous smile on her face being the first one to approach him.

Junichi swings his head over in Yuwa’s direction, eyeing her for a few seconds before looking away. Her smile falters, but she doesn’t say anything more. He glances between the table all of them are occupying, and the small singular table meant for studying and literature work. Without saying a word, he moves towards the small table, yanking out the chair wide. He drops down onto it, and immediately lifts his legs up to rest on the table’s surface, leaning against the back of the chair with a lazy expression.

“You’re late,” Haruuchi piped up, disgruntled at the blasé response from their estranged brother, “we have been waiting for ages now. The tea is almost cold!”

“Then you should have drank it while it was hot,” was Junichi’s answer, not even acknowledging his brother with a glance as he closed his eyes for a moment to rest.

“We had not heard from you at all, so we were going to send someone to Osaka. Why have we not heard from you in so long?” Chikara was the next to speak, tilting his head to the side questioningly as he attempted to coordinate a civil discussion between them all.

“I am here now, aren’t I?” Junichi retorted back, closing his eyes as he leaned back in the chair and made himself comfortable. 

“Chikara, don’t try so hard. He understands animals better than he understands the words of people,” Genba scoffed, ignoring the disappointed look that Yuwa threw his way.

“So, it seems I am still the dark horse of the group,” he sighed, not a trace of anger or aggression in his voice. Only simple boredom and discontent.

“Eh, don’t you mean tiger? That’s your new name, isn’t it?” Akito drawled, his eyes slanted in annoyance at Junichi’s loud and brash nature.

“People started calling me that on their own. I have a name, and that is not it,” Junichi spat viciously, riled up at the mere mention of his fearsome title.

“It is only because of your actions that you earned such a title. Junichi, you could have a place with us if only you worked harder to change yourself,” Chikara announced, his analytical nature coming out, as if he wanted to pick apart the negative and positive aspects of Junichi and keep them separate.

“You’re right. If only I could change this scar on my face, I could live a lot easier,” Junichi sneered, making a point to open his eyes and look at them all with his masked face.

They all went quiet at the mention of Junichi’s scarred face, the topic too taboo to spend much time talking about. Junichi didn’t care for what they thought, but he had made his point.

“You are a grown man now. At least learn to better yourself, as any proud royal should. You know nothing about literature or art, you only know how to swing your sword and start a fight. So, how can we converse with you?” Shigeru asked, looking down his nose at Junichi as he sat straight-backed against the chair.

Junichi snorted uncouthly, “My apologies. I suppose a wild beast like me can only growl and snap at complete strangers, after all. Forgive me, will you, brothers?”

Sighing at the tension in the room, Chikara attempted again to navigate the conversation, “Junichi, there are many more imperfections about you. Your temper is appalling, unbefitting of a royal, and your self-involvement alienates the rest of us from approaching you.”

“So, now it’s a personality problem?” Junichi sighed, lifting his legs off the table and coming to a stand, “Even if I changed every aspect about myself, none of you will be satisfied. I’m a royal misfit in your eyes, but one that can’t be tied down by the palace as you all are.”

“What is this? Have you all started without me?”

Everyone stopped at the new voice that had entered the fray. Nobunaga was standing in the doorway, being welcomed in by the servants. Accordingly, the other brothers bowed and greeted him politely. Junichi did not say the greeting but bowed his head respectfully.

“Enough of trivial infighting. We have all gathered here for a reason,” Nobunaga reminded them of their purpose, the rest of them quietening at his realistic, practical take on the situation at hand, “Our other brothers are already knowledgeable about the situation; however, I am not sure how much of this Junichi knows. Junichi, you know of the samurai, Minamoto Banri, correct?”

“Banri,” Junichi said, eyebrows furrowed deeply, “he was cast out as an unfit warrior. His sense of duty is warped. It’s disgusting the way he keeps living on when he should have ended his life long ago.”

Banri had failed his duty as a samurai. He forged his own path, acting selfishly for his own desires rather than reflect the teachings his master had attempted to pass down to him. He stole because he could, and he killed those who got in his way. He had once been on good terms with the royal household; however, the relationship had soured as Banri’s greed grew bigger and bigger. However, rather than committing suicide as all samurai pledge to do, he rejected this notion and rebelled against the system with his own sense of justice.

Nobunaga nodded, “It is believed he is conspiring against the emperor. Junichi, you are our brother, like it or not. You will assist us and do your duty to the emperor by hunting down Minamoto Banri and capturing him before the threat of treason becomes imminent.”

“I see. Banri is a wild beast, so what better way to capture him than to set another wild beast on his trail?” Junichi deducted; his tone amused as a sardonic smirk settled on his face.

“This will be in collaboration with all of us, as we each have something unique to offer,” Nobunaga gestured around to all the brothers in a sweeping motion, indicating his hope for cooperation amongst the quarrelling siblings.

“You wish to cease living as a hostage and start a life in Edo, correct?” Nobunaga asked, his straightforwardness making Junichi stiffen defensively at being figured out so easily. Unbothered, Nobunaga faces him with a determined gleam in his eyes, “This will give you that chance, Junichi. I highly encourage you to take it with both hands.”

“Fine. I will work with you all,” he agreed, eyeing each of his brothers in open wariness, “However, do not expect me to fall in step with your carefree frivolity. I may be a Furuya by blood, but I am a Matsuda right down to my core.”

“Well, it’s not like we’re going to go on picnics together or anything,” Akito drawled, irked as usual by Junichi’s overzealousness in both his words and actions – _wasted energy_ , in his opinion.

“What you said is right, for once. We may be blood brothers, but you are not the same as us. You will never be one of us,” Genba announces, ignoring the stern look from Nobunaga whilst Haruuchi nodded in agreement. Shigeru and Chikara remained impassive, but their lack of response spoke just as loud as if they had spoken. None of them were happy about this arrangement, or the idea of Junichi staying to live permanently.

Junichi let out a sigh, cracking his neck side to side as he sauntered over to the door, “Ah, what a relief. I’d hate to be lumped into the same basket as some spoiled, uppity royal sons.”

*

Evening had fallen, and while the servants were distracted with preparing meals for dinner, Kuroko had taken a lantern and set off for the lake. The very same lake he had emerged from a few days ago that had led him to this land.

 _It was definitely that same woman from the garden, he reflected,_ not doubting his memory or intuition telling him so.

_Since I saw the same person, it could be the start of something. I might still be alive in the present, perhaps my body is still functioning, and I am unconscious. I might…be able to go back._

If Kuroko returned to that lake, then perhaps…perhaps it could take him back home. There was a possibility that it wouldn’t work, but that meant there was also a possibility that it would. Even though Eisuke, Yuwa, and Genba had shown him kindness, and some of the other royals as well, Kuroko had to know if the path home for him was still open. If it was, he would undoubtedly take it. And if there wasn’t…then at least he would know.

_There’s only one way to find out._

_My family and Ogiwara-kun could be waiting for me to come back. I don’t want to keep them waiting any longer._

Without removing any of his clothes, Kuroko set the lantern down behind a bush and started wading into the lake. He moved back to the same position that he could remember emerging from, with the water up to his chest. If he tried to follow the same conditions as when he first arrived here, then perhaps this would increase his chances of getting back to his real life. Taking a deep breath, he dropped down and submerged himself.

Unbeknownst to him, another figure approached the lake. Junichi had hoped to refresh himself with a brief dip in the lake. He had rejected the warm bath prepared for him in the royal household, more used to bathing in cold water anyway. He removed his robes, leaving on only loose pants. After a moment and making sure he was alone, he slowly removed his mask and set it down. He didn’t notice the lantern in the nearby bushes, due to the lights from the path shining brighter and not drawing attention to it. He waded into the water until it was up to his waist and avoided looking at his reflection.

[Not even a minute later](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y_to5q8zf8E), the water bubbled, and someone burst through the surface. They staggered to their feet, while Junichi jerked backwards at the unanticipated presence. It was…almost like they had come out of nowhere.

“Am I still here?” Kuroko said through a gasp of air, pushing his sopping hair back over his shoulder. He wiped at his wet face with both hands, his eyes closed and stinging.

When he finally wiped the water from his eyes and opened them, he was surprised to be met with the figure of Matsuda Junichi standing opposite him, bare-chested and waist deep in the water. His face was visibly shocked upon seeing Kuroko, and it was at that point that Kuroko realised he had only ever seen anger on his face. His face…he wasn’t wearing his mask…

Then, Tetsuya saw it. A bumpy, uneven scar stretched across Junichi’s face, over his nose and spreading out onto his cheek. It took up most of his upper face but spread more so on the right side. _That explains why Matsuda-sama always wears a mask,_ Kuroko ponders silently. Because of course, in this era, facial deformations were considered ghastly and unnatural. He had just seen something that was not meant to be seen.

Junichi covers the scar with one hand, turning his body around halfway in an almost shameful manner as he looked down. When he spoke, Kuroko caught his lips shaking slightly before he asked in an uncertain voice, “Did you see it?”

“What exactly…am I supposed to be seeing?” Kuroko asked, and immediately regrets it. In Junichi’s eyes, it would surely be misconstrued as a mocking remark.

But what Kuroko really meant was that he didn’t see anything to be ashamed of. Even though he bore a scar, it was no different to a normal face. A scar was not a curse, it was just another part of some people’s bodies. It is at this point that Junichi looses patience at Kuroko’s prolonged silence, combined with his wide-eyed, unabashed staring.

“I asked you, did you _see_ it!?” Junichi roars at him, fisting the front of his robes tightly in his hand, wrinkling the silk and yanking Kuroko’s body forward harshly. 

“Please, let go,” Kuroko protested, lifting a hand to tug weakly at the strong wrists holding onto him. They didn’t budge of course, only squeezed harder, but Kuroko didn’t let himself waver. Instead, he kept looking into Matsuda Junichi’s bare face, but not at his scar. Kuroko stared straight into his eyes, holding his ground the only way he knew how.

Taking in a silent, small breath, he spoke with as steady a voice as he could manage, “I…I have not done anything wrong.”

It's silent as they stare at each other. Kuroko knows he should avert his gaze, as that is what people of this era would do if they laid eyes on a scar like the one Junichi bore. Yet, Kuroko feels this would be even more disrespectful. Looking away only draws more attention to its presence, acknowledging it as something bad or ugly. So, Kuroko continues looking at Junichi, acknowledging him in a different way. When Junichi finally speaks, his voice is lower and more serious than before – threatening.

“Forget you saw it. Erase it all. Do not breathe a word about this to anyone,” his eyes burn with the intensity of a raging fire, leaning his face in even closer to make his point clear, “if you do, then your face will become just like this too.”

“I understand,” and Kuroko _did_ understand, because in that moment, he had seen this man’s vulnerability. And where Matsuda Junichi was concerned, Kuroko didn’t think he liked showing his vulnerable side to anyone.

Releasing his hold on Kuroko’s body, Junichi abruptly turned from him, the water splashing as he waded out of the lake. He grabbed his discarded clothes without stopping, and he didn’t look back as he walked further and further away. Kuroko released a small breath, his heart beating faster than normal at the intense exchange. Not only had his plan not worked, but he’d made yet another conflict with a royal son. Sighing, he made his own way out of the cold water, deciding it was time that he return to the royal household.

As Kuroko walked back slowly, soaked to the bone and shivering as he clutched the lantern in his hands, he realised that returning back to his home was probably…impossible. Now that he thought about it closely, the sky had done something strange when he’d disappeared. Was it a solar eclipse, or a storm? His memories from the last day he’d spent in Tokyo were hazy, and he couldn’t say for sure what it was specifically. The point was, however, that a specific condition had been met. Kuroko had been at a certain place in a certain position at a certain time…and that kind of coincidental occurrence was not one that could happen twice.

As he approached Genba’s residence, he looked up and almost stumbled in shock at what he saw. Standing at the front entrance was Genba, Yuwa, Eisuke, and many (perhaps even all?) of the servants. When they noticed him, Yuwa and Eisuke were the first to run forward.

“Takeshi-san! Thank goodness, you’re back safe and sound!” Eisuke greets him tearfully, taking Takeshi’s free arm in his to support him. It was only now that Kuroko felt how exhausted he was.

“The whole family was worried!” Yuwa said, a sense of urgency in her voice as she steps closer to Takeshi on his other side.

“Family?” Kuroko repeated back, looking around at all of them with a dazed expression.

“Take Keshi inside and warm him up, get him something to eat,” Genba ordered, his face and voice tinted with concern but relief, and the servants all nodded affirmatively. Eisuke and Yuwa immediately moved forward to help Kuroko up the stairs.

“I suppose…that I am home,” Kuroko says aloud, the reality of his situation sinking in. He could have been stuck in much harder situations or places than this.

To have so many people care about him, when he did not know ( _remember_ , to them) a single one of them, it was…strangely humbling, and extremely comforting. He felt cared for, and hadn’t seen that if he did leave, he would surely be missed. For better or for worse, Kuroko had a place here. And he would have to try harder to find his footing, so he could live the best life he could. For his mother, for his father, for his grandmother. For Ogiwara-kun, and for all his other friends.

*

“Naruse-san, I am so sorry, but you have really become a troublemaker,” Eisuke said, chiding him as he patted Takeshi’s long, white hair dry, “I said that you should not go back to that lake by yourself. Please, you have to be safer if you are going out alone.”

Kuroko nodded, feeling rightfully guilty for all the trouble and worry he had caused. They were sitting in Takeshi’s room, on his day bed (yes, he had a day bed – a luxury that Kuroko was very quickly getting used to – anyone would be happy having two beds). His memory suddenly replayed the moment that he had come face to face with Matsuda Junichi. It had been the tensest interaction between them so far, and that was saying something.

Unable to tamp down his innate curiousity, Kuroko turned to face Eisuke properly, “Eguchi-kun, what do you know about Matsuda Junichi?”

The question made Eisuke falter in his actions and pause. The atmosphere in the room grew heavier with his silence, but Kuroko didn’t try to fill it or change the subject. He had encountered the man three times now – he felt that he needed something more to go on, to piece together this person.

Eventually, Eisuke answered, his voice sounding more careful than Kuroko had ever heard it sound, “The other royals do not speak of him. They do not consider him as a true brother, and you should not mention him if you can.”

Blue eyes blinked, his interest piquing, “Why? What kind of person is he?”

“There are terrifying rumours floating around about him. He is cruel and brutish, constantly seeking out fights and showing no mercy on his opponents. That is why he is called the Wild Tiger,” Eisuke tells him in a quiet voice, resuming his task of drying Takeshi’s hair, “Do not look at his face or bring attention to his mask. He is not a forgiving person, especially when it comes to those two topics.”

Well, Kuroko had already made a big mistake – having directly looked at Junichi’s face just hours ago. Though the man had threatened to injure (and possibly kill) him, he hadn’t done anything more than that.

“Did I just hear you correctly, Keshi-kun? Are you asking about Matsuda Junichi?” Yuwa’s face appeared in the doorway, eyebrows knitted in concern.

“A-Aisawa-sama, greetings,” Eisuke hurriedly bowed, polite and respectful as always.

Takeshi mimicked him and then asked, “You were listening, Yuwa-san?”

“I am sorry for eavesdropping, but I had to come check on you when I overheard your conversation,” she answered, a small, sheepish smile on her lips as she approached them, sitting on a nearby chair.

He nodded, “That’s right. I met him earlier and was curious about him.”

“What Eisuke-kun has said is true, although I can tell you a little more,” she said, folding her hands in her lap, “It all goes back to before his birth. His mother was a prostitute that the emperor accidentally impregnated. Naturally, the royal court and the emperor covered it up at first, until Junichi-sama was born, and his mother sought acknowledgement for her son. She was not able to support herself and bring up a child.”

“When she approached the palace, desperate and begging him to help her, he refused. Then, as an act of defiance, she sliced her son’s face intending to kill him and then herself,” a solemn air preceded her words, although Kuroko was more visibly affected than the other two. Could a mother really do such a thing to her own son? All because of the emperor’s pride?

Yuwa continued, “The emperor stopped her, of course, not willing to let his own son be killed right in front of him. The woman was imprisoned, and she died within a year of an unknown illness. Since his face was scarred and there was an uproar in the royal court about the illegitimacy of his birth, the emperor sent him Junichi-sama to live in Osaka. There, he was raised by them as both a tool and a bargaining piece to create another ally for the empire.”

“If he is a son of the Furuya family, why does he go by Matsuda?” Takeshi questioned after letting that all sink in, as that had been another question lingering on his mind.

“I am not entirely certain, but I believe that Matsuda was the family name of his birth mother. He supposedly claimed the name after being sent away,” Yuwa explained, as Eisuke finished drying his hair and began tidying up, “Since he is of age, he is permitted to return here, as those were the terms of the contract between the two nobles. The emperor acknowledges him but expects nothing from him aside from him fulfilling his duties as part of the treaty. Junichi-sama has no household or royal duties. He did not become a Daimyo, even though being the son of an emperor does mean he is entitled to it if so wishes.”

So, that was the estranged son of the emperor who did not become a Daimyo. The one that the other royals did not mention if they could avoid it, as he was alienated from the royal family since he was a young child. After hearing all that he had, Kuroko could not help but think Matsuda Junichi had lived through a very tragic, very lonely past. He knew well how events of the past could haunt you, could change your very being into someone you didn’t recognise.

As for the kind of person Matsuda Junichi was, Kuroko still believed he was unfairly selfish and looked down on others when he had no place to do so. However, he had gained a bit of understanding and insight as to why he was the way he was. Though his past did not excuse his actions in the present, Kuroko felt sympathy for the man. Perhaps, if he was staying in Edo, he would gradually bond with his brothers and he could change for the better. Kuroko wasn’t sure, but he could only hope that would be the case.

*

The next day, Kuroko elected to take it easier. He stayed in his room mostly, going through all of his belongings – belongings that were not necessarily his, but they were. It was…confusing. Regardless, it would be strange if he didn’t familiarise himself with them. If he wanted to fit in here, he had to try harder understanding how this world worked.

It was just after midday that he heard a knock on his door, and he looked up to see one of the servant girls, Saki, standing there. She greeted him with a bow, and he returned it to her, despite how he knew it wasn’t expected that servants receive a bow in return. But Kuroko had a moral compass when it came to respecting others and not looking down on them, and he would not be changing that view anytime soon.

“Takeshi-san, you have some visitors,” Saki informed him, bowing respectfully and stepping to the side to allow the visitors in.

“Greetings, Naruse-san. I apologise it has taken me so long to pay you a personal visit. I can get so bogged down with my studies and duties, however that is no excuse,”

“Greetings, Chikara-sama. I am very humbled that you could spare some of your precious time to visit me. I know you are very busy, and I am appreciative of your kindness,” Kuroko said as he bowed, knowing indeed how busy Chikara was. After Nobunaga, he was a royal that took care of very important matters concerning Edo and its people.

“This is my servant, Okayama Hirofumi-san. You were previously acquainted before your accident. However, Okayama-san has informed me you haven’t interacted all that much,” Chikara introduced said man that was standing beside him, whom stepped forward and faced Kuroko with a neutral expression.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Okayama-san,” Takeshi bowed politely, but felt for some reason a strange energy with this man. Not anything sinister, yet it felt like it would be hard for them to hold a conversation on their own.

“The same to you, Naruse-san. I hope you are recovering well. Forgive me if you do not see me often, I have many duties that I must attend to. Please excuse me. I will check on the preparations for your tea, Chikara-sama,” the man bowed at the waist before leaving the room, off to see how Genba’s household servants were going with preparing their tea.

“He is reserved, but a decent and hardworking person,” Chikara smiled, and Kuroko was taken aback at the genuineness from this man. He seemed very refined and the most intellectual of the royal brothers yet did not act as if he was above anyone. However, undeniably, Kuroko sensed he also had the aura of a powerful leader.

The two of them took a seat at the small table in Takeshi’s room, sitting on the plush cushions as the tea was bought in, “I heard Shigeru recommended you some literature to aid your recovery. I hoped to offer some insight into the arts,” Chikara said, not hesitating in picking up his tea and taking a sip.

“The arts?” Takeshi parroted back, a sudden spike of curiousity niggling at him.

Chikara nodded, “Yes. In Edo we have many forms of the arts that you can learn from and experience. Drawing, painting, dancing, singing, and playing musical instruments. My brothers have been active in helping you readjust yourself, and I want to offer my help as well.”

Kuroko maintained a neutral expression on the outside, but on the outside, he was touched at the level of care these people had shown and were continuing to show towards him.

Offering an optimistic smile, Chikara asked him, “What do you think? Is there anything that you think you may enjoy?”

“Drawing and painting,” Kuroko answered without much thought, seeing as he had been studying it in university not that long ago, “I feel…that it will be a good medium to help me adapt to the environments surrounding me.”

Kuroko was no expert when it came to his art. His major had been in Japanese literature, both modern and historical, whilst his minor had been in art. He could draw fairly well and his primary medium in his arts course back in university had been traditional sketching using lead pencil and painting with watercolours. He was best at drawing landscapes, although he was attempting to improve on his portraits. It would undoubtedly bring him comfort, though, if he could utilise his artistic skills in this era.

“That is excellent to hear,” Chikara told him, his eyes shining. Then, he turned and pulled over a bag that was next to him (one that Kuroko hadn’t noticed him holding earlier), and opened it, “It is fortunate that I acted in haste, this time. I obtained these materials from the market. Here is the order I requested, if you wish to make further requests in the future.”

Inside the bag were sheets of thin yellow-tinged paper, with coloured paints (watercolours, Kuroko recognised), ink and all sizes of brushes.

“Is it really okay for someone like me to pursue such an interest as this?” Kuroko questioned, his ingrained desire to not want to let anyone down starting to show.

However, Chikara had nothing but faith in him, smiling and waving his hand through the air as if to dispel all of Kuroko’s doubts, “But, of course. If you desire to and feel you will better yourself by doing it, then there is no reason to refuse such a request.”

“Thank you very much, Chikara-sama,” he bowed his head to the ground, and after Chikara received his thanks, he sat back up and pulled the bag closer, a spark lighting in his chest.

 _Very much like Akashi-kun,_ Kuroko thought to himself. It was strange how many people here reminded him of people from his old life. Perhaps it was something like fate, but Kuroko didn’t think he would look much more into it.

After all, Matsuda Junichi reminded him of absolutely no one from his life in Tokyo, and there was no one with Ogiwara-kun’s likeness either. Kuroko simply recognised qualities from his friends in these people, and if anything, he was grateful for the small comfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and the plot starts to thicken! Kind of, haha xD the romance will develop more soon, I promise! Thank you to all who took the time to click on my story and read all the way to the end ^o^ until next time, please look after yourselves and each other! We need to support each other in these hard times :) 
> 
> For anyone who would like to know or is curious:  
> Nakamura Kasuke - Kasamatsu  
> Minamoto Banri = Haizaki 
> 
> \- Foamy ☆*。*.・


	3. The Strong And The Weak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone is staying safe and taking care with COVID-19 pandemic in all of your countries *sending love and positivities* please enjoy this new chapter update! :)

It was during a day walk that Kuroko ran into Furuya Haruuchi. He had not seen the royal since their scuffle the other day. The other brightened upon noticing him, waving at Kuroko as he hurried over his way.

“Haruuchi-sama, what are you doing here?” Kuroko asked, deadpanning. Though he showed more respect to him this time around, he still remembered and disliked the way Haruuchi had treated his servants the last time he saw him.

“You had this ugly look on your face, so I graciously decided to make it disappear!” Haruuchi declared, resting a hand on his chest as if he had just performed a great deed, “Anyway, thinking back to the other day, it was my first time fighting so openly like that since I grew up. I’ve never fought with anyone before. It was fun!”

“Yes, then come by often. I will fight you without holding back,” Kuroko said expressionlessly, even raising a fist to demonstrate that he was not joking.

“Do you really want me to come and see you often?” Haruuchi asked excitedly, his eyes sparkling and paying attention to the wrong part of what Kuroko said.

“You were gracious and did not punish me for acting out of turn. Being amicable with you is the least I can do,” Takeshi answered dully, thoroughly unenthusiastic at the prospect. _Similar to Kise-kun, he has his own best interests at the forefront of his mind,_ Kuroko thought to himself.

“Then, this is our first day as friends! And since we are friends, I want to call you more familiarly,” Haruuchi insisted with a saccharine voice, humming as he tapped at his chin, “Hmm…how about Taki?”

“Please don’t say that. My name is Takeshi,” Kuroko corrected primly, his eyebrows drawn down seriously.

“But it’s shorter and cuter, don’t you think?” Haruuchi countered with a playful smile.

“Eh? Uchi? You’re not picking a fight with Takeshi again, are you?” the man, Akito, drawled, lumbering over their way. Kuroko was surprised at his laid-back attitude. Granted, none of the royals were exactly strict, but Akito had a simple-minded nature to him.

“Of course not, Kito! I have come to make amends and start over!” Haruuchi declared, placing a hand over his chest dramatically.

It didn’t seem to impress Akito, rather having the opposite effect if his narrowed eyes were any indication, “You’re too spirited for this time in the morning. Stop it, it’s annoying.”

“Do you all run into each other so often here?” Takeshi interjected, tilting his head sideways curiously.

Haruuchi breaks out of his petulant glaring to look back at Takeshi, then smiles sheepishly, “Hm? Ah, well, a little.”

“Uchi is always floundering around so you see him a lot. If you’re clever, you can learn certain times you can avoid him if you do not feel like putting up with him,” Akito says to Takeshi, not a single humorous note in his words – he was being serious.

And it seemed that Haruuchi picked up on this, as he cried out indignantly, “You’re so cruel, Kito!”

“We all have our own households, but we all reside close to the main palace. So, it’s often that we see each other around the common grounds. Just like a real family, don’t you think?”

“Hey, Takeshi, is it okay if I call you Take instead?” Akito asked out of the blue, and Kuroko couldn’t help but draw similarities between these people and his old teammates and friends. Aomine, Kise and Murasakibara all had unique ways of addressing him. It was comforting, even if he didn’t know these people so well yet.

So, Kuroko nodded his assent, “I do not mind, Akito-sama,”

“Really? Thanks,” the other nodded at Takeshi in gratitude, much easier to please in comparison to Haruuchi.

Speaking of which, Haruuchi burst out his objections to the idea instantly, “Hey! You almost copied me! Take is just one character off from Taki!”

“Oh, be quiet, Uchi. It’s very different,” Akito waved him off lazily, his large hand swatting through the air almost in slow motion.

“No, it’s not!” Haruuchi maintained, childish frustration blooming on his face. Kuroko could vividly imagine the other stomping his foot like a small child, though thankfully, the real Haruuchi didn’t resort to such behaviour.

“It is,” Akito argued, and the two of them continued that back-and-forth style of bickering while Takeshi quietly observed them.

 _They are…quite childish,_ Kuroko thinks silently, but he’s not criticising them. Not in the least. He had studied and knew of the conflict that often resided inside royal families. However, these brothers did not seem to be following down that path. They all coexisted together, and they all got along despite their extremely opposing personalities.

*

Another day in this world, and Kuroko was still feeling like he didn’t fit in as perfectly as he should. Recently, he has missed the conveniences and hobbies that only pertain to the 21st century. His mobile phone, his laptop, and even his electric toothbrush. They were all luxuries that did not exist in this world, and he knew it would take some getting used to without them. But most of all, he missed playing basketball.

Being without basketball was truly difficult. It was one of the aspects about himself he could be proud of, his specialist skill as a basketball player. But such a game did not exist in this time. There was no way for Kuroko to even introduce it, let alone explain what it was to anyone. So, since there was no means for Kuroko to utilise his basketball skills here, he would have to improve on his art. If he kept working hard at it, there may be a way for him to contribute something meaningful with it.

Currently, Kuroko had set himself up in Genba’s household garden, sitting amongst the flowers on a grassy slope. The sun cloaked the area in a warm, golden blanket and the sky was a clear blue. Kuroko had used to love sketching outside when he was younger but had fallen out of the habit during his later years of high school and early university days.

He was grateful to Chikara for bringing him these art materials. It had honestly not crossed his mind that he could rely on his art skills during this time period, but then again, he had been reincarnated in a different body – perhaps an allowance could be made that he temporarily forgot about his art.

In any case, he was glad to have at least something close to his heart that he already knew how to do. It also helped ease him into this new life, linking fond memories of his other life that he could lean on whenever he might feel down.

A person walking his way caught Takeshi’s attention, and it seemed the other man was acutely aware of his presence as well, since he turned to look directly in Takeshi’s eyes. That is unexpected, Kuroko thought, curious to meet someone who was able to pick up on his low presence.

The person had a slim, muscled build with long, black hair tied into a ponytail. He was not someone that Takeshi recognised, however the man’s face lit up with a grin once their eyes met, “Oh, it’s Naruse-kun! What are you up to?” he asked, ambling over to him and dropping into a squat besides Takeshi on the grass.

Taking a moment to pause, Takeshi blinked at him and then said, “I’m sorry, who are you?”

“Ah, that’s right! I did hear that you had a near drowning in the lake. You hit your head and it affected your memory, although I thought that last part was only rumour,” the other admitted with an airy laugh, not one aimed at Kuroko’s expense but rather it seemed the man was amused by his own misinformation.

“It is true,” Takeshi answers with a single nod, “What is your name?”

“Ah, sorry! You can call me Kagemaru. I’m an artist that works for the palace – when they call on me, that is. The rest of the time, I’m following the wind where it takes me,” he answered loftily, staring up at the clouds with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.

Takeshi couldn’t help but think that Kagemaru was the most free-spirited person he had met so far, “I see. Were we well-acquainted before?”

“Not really, but better late than never to start a friendship!” Kagemaru laughed, extending his hand out to which Takeshi grasped it, the two of them shaking hands.

When they released each other, Kagemaru hummed, running his eyes over the drawing, “You know, I do not remember you having such an affinity for art before,”

“Neither do I,” Takeshi responded bluntly, to which Kagemaru burst out in laughter.

“Hahaha! You have a peculiar sense of humour, no doubt about it!” Kagemaru beamed, wiping away a tear from his eye as he calmed down, “You draw landscapes really well. Although, it is true that portraits are in very high demand these days.”

“I will keep working hard to become even more varied with my art styles,” Takeshi accepted the compliment with a humble head bow.

“Well, you have great materials to work with. Very good quality. I find that always helps,” Kagemaru offered, running his fingers over the tools that Kuroko currently wasn’t using.

“Yes. They were a gift, so I hope to use them well.”

“You are a pretty sincere one, aren’t you?”

It was the first, but certainly not the last time Takeshi encountered Kagemaru.

*

Between preparing the tea and working on his art, there was not much else for Kuroko to do to pass the time. He’d realised he couldn’t pursue a lot of his regular interests due to them being simply too modern for this era, and so he’d come up with a solution: he would simply do his best to adapt to the common activities in this time period.

Fighting with weapons and hand-to-hand combat seemed to be a popular form of activity. He had seen many of the royal sons, like Genba and Chikara, practicing their fighting skills around the palace. He and Chikara were roughly of the same build, with Chikara being slightly taller and more muscular than he was, but Kuroko would improve on his fitness. Just like in basketball, he would give it his all and train until he was at his limit.

Currently, Kuroko was working on his sword-handling skills. Getting a feel for a sword in his hands was difficult in its own sense, as he had never held something so heavy before. Television shows and movies made swinging a sword look easy, but Kuroko wasn’t even an hour into practising and his shoulders and wrist was aching from the strain.

Then, there was rustling in the nearby bushes and trees, and Takeshi surveyed the area to search for any sign of danger. He didn’t find any, but what he did see was a familiar body crouched on the ground behind a rose bush, watching him.

“Genba-sama…is that you?” he called out, peering over at the hunched figure.

“Ah, you caught me! I overheard the servants saying there was a ghost haunting the training grounds. I should have known better, since you’re always sneaking up on people,” Genba grinned, broad and welcoming as he stood upright and waltzed over. 

“I am trying to improve my combat skills during my free time,” Takeshi explained, lifting the sword a little higher despite how his arm trembled at the weight of it.

Genba shot him an amused look, eyes shining in curiousity as a slow smile crossed his face, “Your free time? Haha, you sure like giving yourself a challenge, huh?”

“I could not simply sit still,” Takeshi argued.

“Why not? You do not have to do this, you know. If any harm should come to you, I would be there to protect you,” Genba told him honestly, wrapping his hand around Takeshi’s wrist gently and the weight of the sword lightened instantly. Genba’s hand was warm, comforting, and strong – like he could support any weight, no matter how heavy.

“I really appreciate that, Genba-sama. However, I want to work hard so I won’t be a burden on anyone,” Takeshi answered, bowing respectfully.

Genba stared at him for a short while, eyes wide and lips parted. Then, a smile emerged across his lips, “That’s it. I have made up my mind,” releasing Takeshi’s wrist, he stepped over to pick up another sword in the training shed, “I will practice with you whenever you find this free time. Let’s improve on our skills together!

“Is that okay?” Takeshi asks, though he secretly hopes that even if it isn’t, that Genba won’t turn away from him.

“Idiot, it isn’t about being okay or not. Nobody as hardworking as you can possibly bad person. I will teach you some of my own tricks, if you like,” laughing brightly, Genba did some warm-up swings with his sword.

“Genba-sama...” and then, Takeshi smiled back softly.

*

“You and Genba-sama have grown closer since your accident,” Eisuke says, a timid but friendly smile on his face.

That caught Kuroko’s attention, making him pause in his tea-making to peer over at Eisuke curiously, “Were we not close before?”

“Uh, well,” then, Eisuke started to fret, as he so often did when he was placed on the spot, but Takeshi was nothing if not patient and didn’t push him to answer. 

“You were aware of each other, but you didn’t really talk to each other much outside of serving tea,” he finally muttered out, his eyes lowered. When he did not hear a response from Takeshi, Eisuke raised his eyes up to see a disappointed look on the other’s face. His eyebrows were dipped down slightly, his eyes suddenly troubled.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Naruse-san! But, you know, I think Genba-sama is happy that this has changed!” Eisuke hurriedly tried to correct what he had done, waving his hands back and forth, “Maybe, um, maybe you two just never had a chance to be like this before. And now that you are, you are both making the most of it.”

Takeshi nodded, accepting the answer and turning the conversation in another direction to help put Eisuke at ease, “How long have you been a servant in Genba-sama’s household?”

Eisuke’s shoulders lost their stiffness at the question, and he stopped working for a moment to glance at Takeshi. He smiled again, a braver one this time, as he answered, “Since I was a young child. It was after the emperor had adopted Aisawa-sama, after her parents passed on. Since I am the same age as both of them, we were around 9 years old when I first met them.”

Returning to his earlier task of cleaning the tea utensils, Eisuke continued, “My mother and I were servants here. She passed when I was a teenager, but Genba-sama and Aisawa-sama allowed me to continue to stay here,”

“That is why they call you so familiarly. Especially Genba-sama who doesn't even use an honourific. It is like you all grew up together,” Takeshi says in understanding, remembering back to the various interactions the three of them – Genba, Yuwa and Eisuke – had around him.

“I t-tried calling Genba-sama by Furuya-sama at the start, but he would lose his temper and demand me to call him by his first name every time I addressed him. S-So, it is not like I have much of a choice,” Eisuke admitted with a wobbly smile, rubbing at his arm sheepishly, "Aisawa-sama allows me to call her in the proper manner, but she requested long ago that I let her use my first name instead of my last name."

Then, Eisuke’s eyes seemed to dim, “A-As I am quite timid and make many mistakes, I fear no other royals would put up with me the way that they do. I am truly thankful to serve under them,” he finished, staring down at the pot with lowered eyebrows and a sad lilt in the lines of his mouth.

“It is okay to make mistakes, that is how we learn and grow in life, so in that sense, I think you have become a wonderful person,” Kuroko said, seeking to reassure the other. He knew how it felt to be constantly critical of one’s own self, and how sometimes it helped to hear someone else say otherwise out loud.

“I would not be able to adjust as well as I have here without you looking after me. You are very kind, Eguchi-kun,” completing his words with a polite bow, he looks up to see Eisuke wide-eyed and frozen.

“N-Naruse-san,” Eisuke’s eyes then turned watery, and it looked as if he would start crying so Takeshi reached for his hand, squeezing gently.

Although living in this place would most likely always have its own challenges, Kuroko would admit he was growing fond of the people in Genba’s household. They all cared for him so much without asking for anything in return.

*

It had been a relatively peaceful day thus far for Kagemaru. He was milling about in the townspeople’s market, following around different groups of people and sketching what he sees. Right now, he was watching a group of small children. They wore dirty, tattered clothes and were trying to steal food from a nearby fruit stall. The group of them couldn’t be any older than 7 or 8 years old and looked as if they desperately needed the food.

However, the owner of the stall had caught on, and was trying to shoo them away with a broom. One of the smaller ones had some food smuggled under his shirt and the group was trying to protect him, forming a barrier around him as they tried to run away. Kagemaru had sketched out the scene and was working on the details of the faces when suddenly a shadow loomed over him.

“Do you take pleasure watching the sufferings of others? Do you laugh because of how they look, struggling to live?” a haughty voice asked, and looking up, Kagemaru saw a man with the oddest, brownish-green hair tied in a short pigtail that went just past his shoulders. He was dressed in simple street robes but held himself with an aura of superiority.

“What? No, that’s not it,” Kagemaru laughed, shaking his head. Apparently, this was the wrong course of action for the other man, who curled his lip in disdain.

“Selling such drawings for profit, how disgusting,” the man scowled, his eyes denouncing his sketch so distastefully it almost made Kagemaru gape in surprise.

Instead, Kagemaru shot the other a half-smile and hastily explained himself, “You have the wrong impression. I’m not selling them, I’m depicting their suffering, so others in the future will look upon it and see how they struggled. In a way, I’m commemorating them.”

“Instead of wasting time with such a frivolous motivation, you should be doing all that you can to help. Yet, there you sit, without a care in the world,” shaking his head, the man walked over to the stall.

Kagemaru couldn’t hear what he said, but he was conversing with the stall owner and in the next moment, the man handed over a handful of coins. He then grabbed another piece of fruit off the stall and handed it to the frozen children. They stared at it in silent awe, then bowed their heads quickly and repeatedly as they hurried off to eat their food.

Before Kagemaru could even say a word, the man approached him again, “You lowly insect,” the man scolded, looking down his nose at Kagemaru before turning and stalking off in the other direction.

“I-Insect?” Kagemaru mouthed, repeating the word as if he hadn’t ever heard it before. Well, truthfully, he had never heard it said in such a way before – and directed at him of all people! Then, Kagemaru dissolved into laughter at the entire exchange. He would have to make trips into the market more often if it would always be so entertaining!

Packing up his things, Kagemaru was still grinning as he made his way out of the market and towards the palace.

*

It was just Takeshi’s luck that he encountered Matsuda Junichi again, entirely by accident. He was out at the training field in the early morning, deigning to practice earlier so he would not get in anyone’s way later in the day. Then, roughly twenty minutes in, Junichi had joined him. He had yet to acknowledge his presence, although Takeshi was unsure if this was because of his weak presence itself or the fact that Junichi was ignoring him. So, Takeshi decided to find out for himself.

“Good morning, Matsuda-sama,” Takeshi bowed, his snowy white ponytail falling over his shoulder with the movement.

 _“You,”_ Junichi’s face twisted in an ugly snarl when he laid eyes on Takeshi. He didn’t grab hold of Takeshi in any way this time, but he did invade his personal space, glowering down at him threateningly, “Have you told anyone about the other night?”

“I have not spoken a word about it. My life is depending on keeping that secret, after all,” Takeshi answered, his posture straight as he looked the other man directly in his eyes.

“Good. Make sure you keep your mouth shut, or I’ll cut out your tongue,” Junichi growled at him, fire burning in those red eyes of his. _Quite a different expression to the last time I laid eyes on him,_ Takeshi mused to himself.

Sensing a change of topic was in order to quell the tenseness surrounding them, Takeshi ventured a new question, “Why were you at the lake?”

Junichi’s eyebrows shot up sharply, his angry expression momentarily broken, “What?”

“Why did you come to the lake that evening?” Takeshi repeated, eyes wide with curiousity.

Junichi’s eyes narrowed fiercely, “That is none of your concern, know your place!” he reprimanded, looming his height over Takeshi threateningly, “Besides, I should be asking you that question! I may not be pure bred, but I have royal blood in my veins, so I will ask the questions.”

“Shall we compromise? I will not ask you if you do not ask me,” Takeshi inquired, leaning back slightly to gain some space between them.

“You do not make the decisions here! Unbelieveable! You foolish kid,” Junichi scoffed, stepping back from Takeshi and looking down on him.

“I am not a kid,” Takeshi stated firmly, his eyebrows drawn down in displeasure.

“Next to those weapons, you look like nothing more than a child. Such frail, tiny men like you have no place in combat, be it simple practising or fighting on the battlefield,” Junichi admonished him, gesturing to the array of weapons that looked giant next to Takeshi.

“I have to disagree. Anyone with a will to fight can do so, regardless of anything else. Mental strength is just as important as physical strength,” Takeshi replied primly, not taking kindly to the assumption that his build alone dictated the quality of his abilities.

“Fine, then.” Unbuttoning his cloak, Junichi dropped it to the ground. He stepped forward, the grass swishing under his boots as he withdrew his sword, “If you are so determined, then fight with me.”

Takeshi blinked, “Excuse me?”

“Let’s spar, properly,” Junichi clarified, and Takeshi’s eyes widened in surprise at the blunt request.

“I have a keen sense for determining the strong and the weak. People who possess strength have a certain scent, compared to those who are weak,” Junichi explained, cracking his neck side to side and rolling his shoulders back. Then, his gaze was laser sharp on Takeshi, burning and bright as he continued, “Yet, I cannot smell a thing on you. No discernible weakness or strength, and it’s been troubling me. I want to see for myself just how strong you really are.”

It was the first time someone was requesting Takeshi to prove himself. The people of Genba’s household and the other royals had been accepting of him, without asking for anything of return. Yet, Matsuda Junichi was asking him to fight. He was asking Takeshi to show his skills, and even if Junichi clearly thought lowly of him, Takeshi could not refuse such an offer.

“Very well. I accept your request,” Takeshi agreed, stretching his wrists to ensure they wouldn’t get strained during their sparring.

And so, they began. Junichi’s movement was instant, fast and aiming to strike from the get-go, as he crowds Takeshi’s space with his weapon swung high. Takeshi weaves under Junichi’s raised arm, manoeuvring around behind him.

Takeshi attempts to swing his sword and have it clash with Junichi’s, but it only slices through air. Junichi is fast on his feet and is not shy to shove and knock at Takeshi’s legs and arms to get him on the ground. Takeshi does his best to dodge, but his eyes are not as well trained as Junichi’s, which becomes increasingly clear the longer they fight.

“Is this really the best you can do!? You’re really disappointing me right now!” Junichi yelled, ramming Takeshi in the side with enough force to knock him over.

As Takeshi coughed and spluttered on the ground, Junichi towered over him with his sword pointed towards him, “Ah, I get it. You’re just so weak that you don’t even smell like anything. Pathetic,” Junichi scoffed, glaring down at Takeshi.

“What is going on here!?” Genba demanded angrily, suddenly appearing on the scene and throwing away Junichi’s wrist as he quickly stood in front of Takeshi.

“Genba-sama, please wait. It is a misunderstanding,” Takeshi stumbled hastily to his feet and moved in close behind him, grabbing onto Genba’s arm to keep him from lashing out.

“He had his sword at your throat, Keshi! If you don’t think he won’t hesitate to kill, you’re wrong!” Genba spoke in a raised voice, taking a defensive stance against his own flesh and blood.

“Is there anything wrong with a little sparring, brother?” Junichi asked mockingly, keeping his sword in his hand by his side.

A humourless laugh fell from Genba’s lips, as he lifted his head to look down on Junichi, “There is when _you_ are the opponent. Don’t come near Keshi, I do not trust you.”

Junichi grinned sadistically, his teeth showing like a predator snarling before they moved in for the kill, “Why? Because I’m a wild beast? That’s interesting. Are you saying you fear me, Genba?”

“As if I fear a person like you. I am obviously stronger than you, and I do not need to fight you to know that,” Genba scoffed, dismissive, “I am merely saying that I do not like your presence. It irritates me, the way you walk around as if you have any right to kindness and acceptance here after all you have done.”

“It isn’t like you would know what it’s like,” Junichi said, his fringe covering his eyes as he sheathed his sword, “having grown up in your cosy little palace, I’m sure you faced your own kind of hardship. Was it difficult sleeping in a warm bed every night? Was it hard for you to live?”

“Bastard,” Genba growls, “if you think you can live in Edo, then you need to rethink yourself. There’s a lot more for you to prove before you can even consider staying here. Remember that,”

“Thank you for your concern, but I honestly do not need or care for it,” Junichi snarked back waspishly, expression deep set in equal amounts of anger and determination, “I’ve already made up my mind. I am staying. As soon as I find Banri, I’ll be moving in for good. Enjoy it while you can,” and without another word, Junichi stalked past Genba and Takeshi, exiting the training grounds.

 _Banri? Who is this person?_ Takeshi pondered on that and made a mental note to investigate further at a later time. He might need to do some research on his own first, since it seemed a sensitive topic to bring up in conversation lightly.

“Genba-sama,” Takeshi called out to him, since it seemed like he was stuck in his anger, staring after Junichi venomously. He didn’t like to see such a look on Genba’s face.

“If you want to spar, then you can always come to me. Do not go around accepting anyone who wants to fight just because they ask!” Genba scolded him, steely eyes piercing through Takeshi as he set his now worried gaze on him.

“Isn’t Matsuda-sama your brother? Do you really have to act in that way with each other?” he asked, his eyes darting over to Junichi’s retreating back and then meeting Genba’s gaze again.

“We have never gotten along. Even when we were children before he was sent to Osaka, I could not stand him,” Genba explained, his eyes shaded over with unpleasantness.

Takeshi nodded, understanding, “You both have strong personalities. It is only natural that you would clash. I do not think you have to be so hard on each other, though.”

“That may be true, but I am not the same as him,” Genba stated firmly, his face set in a defiant expression.

“He is not someone you can count on to be on your side, Keshi. If your safety was the difference between his triumph or failure, he would not think twice about abandoning you. I am not saying this to be cruel, but I am worried about your safety. Stay away from him as much as you can,” Genba had never cautioned him against anything this strongly before, and Takeshi knew he should not take the words lightly.

“I’m sorry for making you worried, Genba-sama,” Takeshi apologised, genuinely remorseful he had caused more stress for Genba. 

“As long as you’re alright, that’s what matters,” Genba told him with a reassuring smile, as he helped Takeshi pack up his things.

He didn’t know what to think about Genba’s words of caution, though. It seemed there were many rumours swirling about the type of person Junichi was, and Takeshi felt confused as to what he should believe in. it was true that he didn’t know Junichi well at all, and that all their interactions so far had ended in harsh words and threats from Junichi.

Yet, Takeshi couldn’t help but remember the way Junichi had been that night in the lake. The unguarded vulnerability at having his scarred face seen by another, the desperate way he had forced Takeshi to keep what he had seen to himself. How many people had seen that side of Junichi?

*

Kagemaru was a man who thrived on unpredictability and spontaneously in his life. That was why he thought it was wonderfully entertaining that the very same man who had insulted him just days ago was the same man that was a royal son of the palace. And even more amusing, it was the same man he had been contracted to paint a portrait for – seriously, what were the odds of that?

“He actually looks lonely,” Kagemaru chuckled condescendingly under his breath at the strange appearance of the prince but stopped abruptly when he turned to look at him.

The two exchanged an awkward glance, before Shigeru’s eyes darted away, his eyebrows pinching together tightly. Kagemaru clucked his tongue at the other, before approaching closer and setting down his supplies.

“Your artist has arrived,” he announced, forcefully cheery as he went to set out his utensils, “Ukaiko Kagemaru, at your service, Furuya Shigeru-sama.”

The man, Shigeru, did not say anything. Unaccustomed to the silence but not off put, Kagemaru continued, “It truly is wonderful we are finally being formally introduced. Now we can address each other appropriately. What was it you called me again the last time we met? An insect?”

“I do not recall,” Shigeru responded promptly, tearing his gaze away from Kagemaru abruptly.

“Haha! You are a royal, right down to the core. Such admirable decorum you have!” Kagemaru laughed, both amused and surprised at the level of superiority one man could seem to have. Furuya Shigeru wasn’t one to make mistakes, so he probably felt quite awkward at his misconception about Kagemaru. It didn’t look like he was ready to admit it anytime soon, though.

“I was not aware you were an artist of the palace. You do not wear any royal identification that would indicate so,” Shigeru gave his curt, unapologetic reply, still not looking at Kagemaru.

“Ah, yes, you are right. I keep my brooch in my bag instead of on my person. Makes it easier to blend in with the crowds,” then, Kagemaru’s face lit with mischievous intent, “So, now that you know of my standing, does that mean I have redeemed myself in your eyes?”

“You should not overstep your bounds, artist. I am still of the opinion that your art from the other day was deplorable at best,” Shigeru reprimanded swiftly, glaring down at Kagemaru and his materials judgementally.

“My apologies! I see that I have a long way to go to earn your grace,” Kagemaru apologised, bowing properly towards the young royal Shigeru and unable to hold back from smiling down at the ground. _This is going to be fun,_ Kagemaru thought gleefully, all prior notions of experiencing boredom within the palace dashed. It would be an interesting couple of weeks, that was for sure.

“Do not think I will give up, though. I will make you acknowledge my art, and myself as well, through any means necessary,” Kagemaru spoke in a much humbler, much more serious tone than before.

It seemed Shigeru noticed this, as he finally broke his searing glare from Kagemaru and took his place as the other readied his materials to start, “Fulfil your duties as you’re supposed to, and you may do as you wish.”

Kagemaru looked down to conceal his smirk, his amusement heightened at the unexpected benevolence Shigeru was displaying. He was so relieved – this job in the palace would not be boring in the slightest!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! See you next time!
> 
> N.B. Ukaiko Kagemaru = Takao
> 
> \- Foamy ☆*。*.・


	4. Changing Winds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone! hope you are all doing well, and happy new year 2021! my first chapter in this year, haha! sorry it's taken so long, but i hope some of you have been looking forward to an update because i missed writing for this story ^_^ also, it's unexpectedly long! i did not intend to write so much for one chapter, but then it just happened lol xD hope you all enjoy it!

Nobunaga had gathered all the brothers together again, as he had an important announcement to make. He was there from the start this time, so no unwarranted bickering had begun as Nobunaga got straight to the point.

“I will keep this brief, as we all have places to be. I am here to make you all aware that Naozaki Ranmaru will be arriving shortly for a brief visit in Edo,” he said in a grave tone, crossing his arms as he addressed all of them at the table.

“Are you serious, Nobunaga!?” Genba asked incredulously, irritation laced through his tone at the mere name of the man.

“Oh, this is terrible! I cannot stand Ranmaru. He is even more detestable than Junichi!” Haruuchi complained loudly, draping himself over the lounge in one of his classic theatrics.

Junichi said nothing, did not even react more than roll his eyes. If the brothers were surprised at his unusual quietness today, they did a fair job of hiding it.

“Haruuchi, none of that. Junichi is our brother, and I will not tolerate any of you speaking to him or about him with disrespect. That goes for all of you,” Nobunaga eyed them all disapprovingly, then turned his gaze to Junichi and waited until he had his attention, “And Junichi, you should try not to go off on your own so much. We are working together for a reason, this is not something you can do by yourself.”

“As for Ranmaru, he signed the peace treaty only a few months ago. We must tread lightly, so that we might hope to prolong this neutrality for as long as possible,” he informed them, and the rest of them quietened at his words.

“Nobunaga is correct, we should all act in a manner befitting royal sons as we have been slacking as of late. Moreover, I believe Ranmaru has valuable information regarding Banri that we simply cannot allow to slip away,” Chikara said, linking his fingers together in front of him solemnly, further setting the serious tone of the meeting.

Nobunaga nodded, and left them all with a parting message, “Once we are able to lock down Banri’s location, then we can make a plan to stop him once and for all. No matter what tricks or mind games Ranmaru attempts to perform, just remember our purpose and do not give into his whims.”

*

“Looks like you are better with a bow and arrow than sword fighting face to face,” Genba remarked with an impressed whistle, a hand up to his eyes to stop the sun’s glare as he gazed at the target in the distance.

He and Takeshi were out in the training fields together again. Often times, Takeshi was out by himself, but if Genba caught a glimpse of him practising, he would join in without hesitation. After learning the basics of archery, Takeshi had decided to give it a go today, and the results were surprising to him. Yet, Genba didn’t seem surprised at all, and his utter faith in Takeshi was always comforting.

“It’s because you have such sharp, observant eyes, Keshi. This is great. You can take down the enemy from a distance, and it’s less likely for you to get hurt,” Genba was a bundle of excitement, as he mimicked drawing a bow and letting the arrow release, and his enthusiasm was infectious.

“Thank you for helping me with it this morning, Genba-sama. It is nice to have something I’m good at. However, I will still work on improving my sword handling,” Takeshi said bluntly, and Genba only laughed incredulously.

“You are the stubbornest person I have ever met!”

“I appreciate the compliment, I hope this will become part of my reputation.”

“Haha! You sure have a way of focusing on the positive side!”

Then, Kuroko gasped and staggered, a sharp pain rippling in his neck and back. Genba was immediately at his side, placing a steadying hand on his back and taking the bow from his hand with ease.

“Your body isn’t used to training this hard. I don’t think I ever even saw you touch a weapon before your accident,” Genba stated, rubbing soothing circles on his back as he set the bow down on the ground, “I’ll ask Eisuke to prepare you a healing poultice that you can rest on your neck and shoulder joints. I’ve had my share of those too, and it does wonders, I’m telling you! Let’s head back now, okay?”

“Alright,” Takeshi mumbled, accepting that he had hit his limit for today. They gathered up the things and began strolling along the path back to Genba’s household.

Then, a thought popped into his head, and Takeshi turned to his partner, “Genba-sama-”

“Hey, when it’s just the two of us, you don’t have to be properly formal with me,” Genba told him as they walked, and there was something vulnerable in his eyes that made Takeshi pause.

Takeshi blinked in surprise, then gave a small, shy smile as he tried again, “Okay. Then, Genba-kun?”

Genba grinned, nodding at him encouragingly, “What is it?”

“Do you remember that time a few weeks ago when you came across Matsuda-sama and myself sparring?”

Genba’s grin disappeared, replaced by a look of displeasure, “Yes, what about it? Is he bothering you again? Do I need to fight him?”

“No, please do not fight anyone. I have not seen Matsuda-sama since then, and there have been no problems,” Takeshi said as he shook his head, quick to discourage any unnecessary conflict from blooming. When Genba’s shoulders loosened, he continued, “The only reason I brought it up is because I heard him mention a name to you, someone called Banri. Do you know something about it?”

“Yeah, I do. Minamoto Banri is the man in question, but do you really have to know?” Genba’s brow dipped in worry, and Takeshi hurried to offer reassurance.

“Please, if you are able to tell me anything, I would appreciate it. If it’s something I’m supposed to remember but cannot due to my memory loss, I want to know as much as I can.”

“Alright, I’ll tell you. I doubt you remember since your accident, but a few years ago Banri was an important member of the royal palace. He was a samurai. However, he went rogue.”

And then Genba went on to tell him the whole story. When he had finished, they had reached Genba’s household, and were walking across the gardens back to the main house.

“That is the reason why Junichi is here. All of the Furuya brothers are working together to stop him,” Genba said, and it all made sense now.

“So then, maybe this will be a chance for all of you to connect with Matsuda-sama and for him to connect with all of you,” Takeshi said, talking through his thought processes aloud. It really was an opportunity for Junichi to reintegrate himself into the royal family.

Genba hedged at the idea, and pursed his lips in annoyance, “It is still early days, and in my eyes, he has a long way to go to prove himself to all of us.”

“Even so, wouldn’t it be nice if all of you could get along as brothers?” Takeshi insisted.

“I suppose,” Genba said hesitantly, as if he didn’t fully believe such a thing could happen.

Then, the two arrived at a garden Takeshi had not seen before. There were people walking into it, carrying baskets of what appeared to be…rocks?

Takeshi’s eyes watched the people, who were carrying rocks the size of a person’s hand in baskets, “Where are they going?”

Genba followed his gaze, then let a fond smile settle on his lips, “To build prayer towers for their loved ones. They pray for them, put all of their love and hard work into building these towers for them so they will live well.”

“Towers?” Takeshi repeated, not sure of what he meant.

Genba flashed him a smile and tipped his head in the direction of the garden, “Come on, I’ll show you.”

And then, Genba led him over into the square garden, which was full of many rock towers. Some were smaller than others, and would come up to Takeshi’s knee, while some of the towers were almost as tall as Takeshi himself. At the top of each tower, a candle sat, lit with a small flame that gave it an almost divine appearance.

“They are beautiful. Have you built a tower, Genba-kun?” Takeshi commented, turning to him curiously.

“I have. Look, this is mine,” Genba stated, and Takeshi followed him to a tower that was just a few inches shorter than he was.

“I build it and dedicate it to all my people in my household. I would not be in such good health and high spirits without each and every single one of them. And that includes you too, Keshi,” Genba told him, and the sight of something so pure struck Takeshi. To know Genba cared for him this much, cared for his people so much, it made Kuroko glad that this was the household he had ended up in.

*

As he dismounted his horse, Junichi threw a cursory glance around at the small village he had just arrived in. It was under an hour’s ride from the main city Edo, and had a series of fields surrounding, lush and green, since it was a farming village primarily.

It was much quieter out here than in Edo, which was part of the reason Junichi chose to come here today. The village’s temple was close to the outskirts of the area, so that was another reason. Although he could certainly visit a temple in Edo, his presence would register quickly, and people would clear the area within a 500-metre radius once they knew Matsuda Junichi was there, too. Junichi could not be bothered to deal with all the fuss and fright from swarms of people, all of them terrified even if he did not say a word.

It was not often that Junichi went to pray, but today was an exception, so he needed a quiet place where he could come and go without creating a scene.

He reached up to run his finger over the ring that hung on a silver chain around his neck. It was Yoshitsune’s birthday today. If only he could see him, just once more, and set things right between them. They had not parted on the best of terms, and it pained him sometimes to think his brother was out there somewhere, still holding those bitter feelings towards him.

That was why he had to find Banri, so Nobunaga would vouch for his right to live in Edo from here onwards. Junichi would not go back to Osaka, there was nothing there for him anyway.

As he was on his way to the temple, he heard a scuffle breaking out. From the looks of it, it appeared to be a group of thugs who had cornered some of the village people near the temple.

“Please, give us a little more time! If we just had another week, then we could gather enough for–ack!” the middle-aged man with greying hair at the front of the crowd who was acting as spokesperson doubled over when a kick landed in his stomach. The crowd of women, children and some elderly people behind them cried out hopelessly, cowering against each other.

“Hey, now! We aren’t trying to be cruel! We just want our money! You should return what you borrow, you know?” the man who had landed the kick declared with a sadistic grin, and his men chuckled along at the easy fear they invoked in others.

 _Debt collectors?_ Junichi wondered silently, as he moved in closer.

“Clear out, will you? You’re blocking the way to the temple, and I need to pray,” he said, announcing his presence and drawing all eyes to him as he stood before the scene.

“Th-The Wild T-T-Tiger! It’s really him!” one of the women in the crowd stuttered in disbelief, and the thugs turned to him.

“Wild Tiger? Huh, never heard of him. Is that what they call you? What a stupid moniker!” the man who had spoken before jeered at him, and his cronies joined in readily. So, they had no idea who he was. _Guess it will take more to convince them,_ Junichi thought to himself.

“I did not choose it, as if I would waste time on such a thing. Now, move aside,” Junichi ordered, but they only scoffed at him.

“I don’t think so. We were here first, and we need to beat some sense into these village idiots. We want our money now, we’re sick of waiting!”

Now that Junichi was closer, he noticed some of the elderly men and women had been beaten bloody and were huddled in quivering heaps on the ground. The children were crying and clinging to their mothers, and the men were gritting their teeth, utterly helpless and struck by the fear of death.

Fortunate for Junichi, he had been numb to that fear since long ago. He did not fear death. Compared to living, dying was easy.

“If you will not move and insist on torturing these people, then I have no choice but to _make_ you move,” Junichi said, and he drew his sword threateningly.

“Hah, what a fool! The odds are stacked against you! Kill him!” the head thug pointed at Junichi as they all charged at him, yelling and screaming like mindless idiots. Some of them had sharp, dangerous daggers found on the black market, and others held rusty swords that were stained with dirt and blood.

It made no difference to Junichi what weapons they had, because he would not lose. When they came at him, he sliced his sword through the air with quick, fluid movements. He cut their throats, their arteries, their Achilles tendon in their ankles, and all the while manoeuvred out of the line of their attacks. He obtained some cuts to his hands, but that was nothing that wouldn’t heal with time. There was a time back when Junichi would hesitate to kill, but he had learned that when other came at you with murderous intent, it was either you or them. There was no compromise.

When the last body fell to the ground, Junichi was breathing heavily and covered in blood. He wiped off the blood that was dripping into his eyes with the back of his hand and had just returned his sword to its sheath when he heard a terrified scream.

He turned to see it was a woman in the crowd, who had a shaking hand up over her mouth, as she said hysterically, “He-He killed them all!”

And just like that, the rest of the crowd exploded.

“Don’t look at his face, it’s cursed!”

“Stay back! Don’t you dare hurt my family, you animal!”

Even though he had saved these people from certain death, he was no better than those thugs in their eyes. No, rather it was more accurate to say that they saw Junichi as scum that was lower than even those men.

It was not unexpected, but it was deeply frustrating, so Junichi pushed it all down and ignored them as he approached the temple silently. But just as he got close, a rock was thrown against his chest.

It was a young boy, a teenager, who was shaking like a leaf but glared at Junichi with hatred, “Go away! We don’t want you here!”

The people then followed suit, hurling sticks, rocks, and rotten fruit that was laying on the ground at him. Junichi stood frozen; his fists clenched at his sides so tightly they trembled.

“How dare you do such vile acts in front of our temple! Get lost, you’re nothing but a wild beast!”

“Monster! Just disappear already!”

He could not even stand among them to pray at the temple, he was shunned. _Honestly, what was I thinking coming out here, thinking it would be different?_

Without another word, Junichi turned and walked in the opposite direction away from the temple and the village people, who were still shouting curses and swearing at him. He followed the trail back to where his horse was still tied up, his insides bubbling with nothing but pure rage and anguish.

 _That’s right_ , he had forgotten. Junichi was a monster to them, all of them, and nothing more.

*

Night fell, and Takeshi was on his way to the shrine garden, to start building his own tower. After Genba had told him about them with such fondness and reverence in his voice, Takeshi desired to make something so special for the people in his life too. There were so many people he wanted to pray for, both in this world and for his loved ones that were probably waiting for him in the 21st century.

He carried the rocks in a makeshift basket he had made with a large silk cloth. They were heavy so he could only carry less than ten at a time, but Takeshi was not one to shy away from hard work. If he could at least get started, then it would be easier to work from a base point.

As he approached the shrine garden, he heard the sound of someone yelling. They weren’t saying any words, but it was more like yells of frustration or agony. When he was close enough and could see from the light of the lanterns hanging above, his eyes widened in shock.

Junichi was tearing down the prayer tower monuments. The yelling was coming from him, as he struck the beautifully made rock towers down with his bare hands. He threw the rocks away out of their formation, the towers crumbling to the ground.

“Stop! Please, stop!” Takeshi yelled desperately as he ran over to him, intent on stopping him himself if need be. 

Junichi furiously shoved the carefully placed stones out of place, the sound of them clacking against each other as they fell to the ground, almost gathering like rubble in a destroyed building.

“Move! All of it will be gone!” he screamed, continuing to destroy whatever was within his reach. It didn’t seem like he even heard Takeshi speak, swept up in his fury.

“Stop, now! You must stop, Matsuda-sama!” Takeshi demanded, his voice rising in volume as he tried to hook his arms around Junichi’s to pull him away from the monuments.

 _“LET GO!!”_ Junichi roared, throwing his arms back wildly to dislodge the hold and knocking them into Takeshi. The excess force made Takeshi topple to the ground, falling in a heap with a hard _thump_. 

Takeshi grimaced as he pulled himself up off his side and sat up properly, then felt something liquid and sticky on his fingers. He looked down, and said out loud in disbelief, “...Blood?”

“Yes, it’s blood. It’s the blood of those I killed today!” Junichi said as he staggered around to face him, his lips upturned maniacally while his deep, red eyes glinted with malevolence. Instinctively, Takeshi flinched, and his heart sped up as his anxiety began to build.

For the first time, Takeshi could see why Junichi had garnered such an awful reputation, and Genba’s previous warnings to stay away from him seemed more serious now. He looked…terrifying. It was sobering, and a little frightening, to listen to this man blithely claim he had murdered people with a smile on his face and blood all over him. Yet, even so…

Junichi had not finished speaking, and Takeshi was distracted from his introspection for the moment. The royal son turned to point at the fallen towers with palpable disgust on his masked face, his finger trembling as he spat, “People make these for their family? Why? Why do they get everything, and I get _nothing!?”_

Junichi threw himself against another tower, tearing it down and letting out angered screams. As he watched Junichi from the ground, Takeshi remembered what he had been thinking before.

 _Yet, even so…_ he would not let the fear overcome him. In his life as Kuroko with the Generation of Miracles, he had let himself be swallowed up in silence as he did not want to lose them or say or do anything to disrupt their balance. But that did not help anyone. Their balance as a team and as friends had already broken long ago. Kuroko knew he had just been too weak and cowardly to stand up against them and push them back onto the right path. He had been too late to change anything when it really mattered.

He would not make the same mistake in this life.

No matter who it was, he would move past that fear and act. If he could help anyone, even slightly, he would do it. And that was why Takeshi gathered himself, standing from the ground with determination and moving in again – closer to Junichi.

“Stop it, now. Please,” Takeshi begged, having managed to grab a firm hold in the crook of Junichi’s elbows from behind, and he held him in place with all his strength.

When Junichi looked over his shoulder at him, his mask splattered in blood and dirt that made him look even more menacing, “Do you want to die, too? Let me go!”

He then attempted to violently shake Takeshi off and dislodge him once again, but it would not work this time.

“You are injured!” Takeshi shot back in frustration, gripping onto Junichi tighter.

Then, Takeshi took hold of Junichi’s right hand, which had been sliced across the knuckles. The blood was wet and bright red, dripping down his fingers. His blue eyes narrowed in concern as they quickly scanned over Junichi’s body, “Do you have any other injuries?”

Junichi turned on him, quick as lightning, and grabbed Takeshi’s jaw in a harsh grip with a single hand, “Aren’t you listening!? I just told you that I killed people!”

Their eyes locked, the tension of their encounter spiking as Junichi glared at him. Takeshi did not move, could not move even if he wanted to, and instead stood still. Now was not a time for thoughtless or careless words, Takeshi could feel it. 

So, he relaxed his shoulders and spoke in a calm voice, “Then tell me why you killed them.”

Junichi stopped at the words, and his hand that held Takeshi’s face trembled ever so slightly. Pursing his lips, Takeshi ventured further, “Did you...do it for fun?”

And Takeshi didn’t know why, but he could tell the answer from Junichi’s eyes alone, from the way they quivered, and the tear tracks visible through the blood on his face. _No, I didn’t._ Despite the reputation of cruelty and fear surrounding him, Junichi was not a soulless killing machine. Whatever his reason had been for his actions, he had done it because there was no other choice. 

“Go. Just...go!” he suddenly threw Takeshi’s jaw away, releasing him from his hold as Junichi staggered backwards and turned so his back now faced Takeshi.

“This world is like that, isn’t it? You have to wield a sword from a young age. You must kill others if you want to live,” Takeshi said, dropping his gaze as he remembered the anguish on Genba’s face at having killed others in order to protect himself and survive.

For Junichi, Takeshi imagined it would only be worse. He was an outcast, sent to live as a hostage rather than a son. It was likely that every day, Junichi had to fight to live, as if he wasn’t entitled to the right.

“It doesn’t matter who is strong or who is weak. Everyone wants to live. You cannot be blamed for that,” he recalled when Junichi had fought him and deemed him as weak. Although Kuroko couldn’t help but think that deep down inside, everybody was weak in some way.

At his words, he saw Junichi tilt his head ever so slightly, and Takeshi knew he had to make his words count while the man was listening to him like this, “I understand you. How you’re feeling right now, Matsuda-sama, it must be miserable. I can relate to that feeling, too.”

And, he meant it. Before coming here, he had felt so hopeless and lost in his life. His friends had all abandoned him, had left him behind to improve themselves without him. It wasn’t on the same level as life or death, but the feeling of being misplaced and abandoned was the same. That was why he could understand Matsuda Junichi right now, even a little.

He heard something hit the ground, and he looked over his shoulder to make sure Junichi was not still destroying the monuments. What he saw was not a fallen tower, but Junichi himself had dropped to his knees. His back was slumped and heaving with shuddering breaths as he clutched at the rocks on the ground, like they were the only things he could hold onto right now even though he had been destroying them mere moments ago.

Takeshi felt something tug in his chest as he looked at the man, and Takeshi decided to leave him alone for now. Even though he had received no guarantee, something in Takeshi was telling him that Junichi would not destroy another thing now. Slowly, he walked away, blood stained on his clothes and chin, as the cold wind blew through the night.

He would come back another time to build his tower.

*

Since he was still perfecting his tea-making skills, Takeshi had taken to running errands around Genba’s household. He had just finished delivering meals to Yuwa and Genba, and when he came back, one of the servants Saki hurried up to him with a basket.

“Thank goodness, Naruse-kun! Can you please deliver this meal? We were running a little late, but this is our last one!” she asked, slightly flustered as the other servants hovered unsurely in the background.

Although he was confused at their behaviour, Takeshi gave a short nod, then tilted his head to the side curiously, “Who is it for?”

“Matsuda-sama.”

Takeshi froze, and felt the beginnings of regret begin to nip at him. That explained why the servants had looked so relieved when he had offered to run this errand for them.

“Are you sure I am the best person suited for this task?”

“Of course! You are very reliable, Naruse-kun!” Saki insisted, smiling at him as she nodded a little too quickly, as if to desperately persuade him.

When Takeshi opened his mouth to speak again, she clapped her hands together in front of her and begged, “Please help us out! The servants that are supposed to serve him in the palace are busy due to the arrival of Ranmaru-sama, and the servants in the other royal households all refused to do it. We are all too scared to go to Matsuda-sama! Nevertheless, a royal son’s meal must be taken seriously, so someone should hurry and take it to him. Please, Naruse-kun!”

Takeshi did remember Genba and Yuwa had told him about the royal from another city, Naozaki Ranmaru, was coming to stay for a while. Apparently, the man had been a source of great stress and worry for the Furuya royals in Edo. He see-sawed between conflict and neutrality too easily and at his whim. Currently, they were at peace with the man, but it was still rocky grounds, so it was best not to rock the boat if at all possible.

And, well, he was honestly not surprised to hear some of the servants were scared of Junichi. He had seen for himself how quickly the royal could lose his temper. Therefore, in order to help everyone and keep the peace, Takeshi took the meal to Junichi.

It wasn’t that Takeshi was trying to avoid the man, but he wasn’t exactly looking forward to seeing him either. Their last encounter was still fresh, and he could imagine Junichi would be wary and short-tempered with him. Possibly threaten his life, again. He had to trek off up into the hills, as that was where Junichi was, apparently. It was a secluded spot where an abandoned, old temple was located. Nobody used it anymore, since the location was inconvenient, yet it seemed Junichi had been all too willing to go out of his way for it.

As he approached, he noticed Junichi was sitting cross-legged inside the dilapidated temple, with his back facing Takeshi. It didn’t appear like he was praying, but he seemed deep in thought. Takeshi considered leaving the basket in an obvious position and leaving without a word, but he knew he had to do his errand properly. So, he removed his shoes and stepped into the temple.

“Your meal has arrived,” Takeshi declared in an expressionless tone.

Junichi stiffened and swung his arm back to attack before he turned around. Having become adept at dodging people due to his low presence, Takeshi swiftly manoeuvred out of Junichi’s range, keeping hold of the basket carefully.

As Junichi whipped his head around, readying to take a defensive crouch, he stopped short upon realising who it was. Then, his brow creased in anger as he shouted, “Do not just appear so suddenly! Announce your presence more naturally unless you want to lose a limb!”

“My apologies, Matsuda-sama,” Takeshi says, bowing once more as he held the basket in front of him, “I am here to serve you your meal.”

When Junichi did not respond and only moved to sit on the step outside the temple, Takeshi slowly released his bow and followed him. As he was outside the temple, he put his shoes back on and crouched down on the opposite end of the step. He set the basket down, opened the lid and began to reach in to retrieve the food.

“Just leave it there,” Junichi ordered brusquely, as deliberately looked away from the vicinity where Takeshi was standing. 

“Very well,” he nodded, then stood up properly and prepared to depart. He made it forward a few steps, but then, Takeshi stopped and glanced over his shoulder once more.

He was conflicted at the sight of Junichi, who always seemed to be alone. Then, he remembered last night, when Junichi had looked at him with his blood-stained face with tear streaks down either cheek. Although he looked intimidating and aloof as usual, Takeshi knew well not to ever judge a book by its cover.

Pushing aside his petty urge to leave just like that, Takeshi gave a silent sigh as he turned back around and made his way over to Junichi once more. He sat back down on the opposite end of the step, rearranging his dress robes so they would not bunch up as he said, “I have to take back the empty bowls. Why don’t you eat quickly so I may return and leave you in peace?”

“About yesterday, you did not see anything. Are we clear? If you speak a word of it to anyone, I will destroy you,” Junichi threatened him in a serious, gravelly manner.

“I would not dream of discussing that evening with anyone even if you allowed me to do it. I have my own issues as well, and I most certainly do not have the time to go around talking about other people.”

“Good. Keep it that way,” Junichi grunted, though he did not reach for his food.

Takeshi frowned, then had a thought that he unintentionally spoke aloud, “Every time I see you, you always end up telling me to forget you.”

“Maybe if you stayed out of my sight, I wouldn’t have to keep repeating myself,” Junichi retorted, as he stared out at the view of the mountains and the palace which towered over the skyline.

Takeshi blinked, as he looked at the other, “My apologies, but you are not someone who is easy to forget, Matsuda-sama.”

“Because I’m a monster?” Junichi asked sardonically, as if he already knew the answer.

Yet, Takeshi shook his head, completely serious as he replied, “No, that’s not it,” even though it was confronting seeing Junichi like that last night, he had seemed more in agony than anything else. Furrowing his brow, he turned to face Junichi properly, “Speaking of which, why did you act so rashly? Last night, why did you do that?”

“You ask too many questions! I’m not telling you anything,” Junichi snapped, then turned accusing eyes on Takeshi as he pointed at him, “Anyway, why were _you_ at the lake all those nights ago? You just appeared from under the water! What was that about?”

Takeshi paused, unprepared for such a question being thrown at him, “Eguchi-kun tells me the chicken is the best, so please remember to try it before you are full,” he answered instead with a completely different topic, hoping to divert the conversation if at all possible.

Nobody needed to know about his attempt to return back to the 21st century by trying to drown himself – he would surely be dubbed as insane if he did. 

“Dodging the question, huh?” Junichi grumbled under his breath but didn’t push the subject any further as he reached for the food and began to eat.

For the rest of the time, they did not speak. Junichi ate his meal, and Takeshi admired the view beyond.

To Takeshi’s surprise, Junichi ate everything that had been prepared for him, not leaving behind a single scrap. He bowed and excused himself as he left, and Junichi did not follow him. Vaguely, he wondered how long Junichi would stay up here by himself.

On his way back, Takeshi walked through the monument garden, which was slowly being rebuilt by the dutiful servants. It seemed they had finished up work for today, though, since the area was pretty much deserted.

A shiny glint caught in the setting rays of the sun caught his eye, and Takeshi moved over to one of the half-destroyed towers. Bending at the waist, he picked up what he realised was a silver ring. It was highly unlikely that such a precious object could belong to one of the servants, and somehow Takeshi just _knew_ that this ring was Matsuda Junichi’s.

Takeshi sighed. He could only hope the royal son would not jump to conclusions when he found out Takeshi was in possession of it.

*

Two days after he had brought Junichi his meal and found the ring, Takeshi went to Eisuke with a request.

“Eguchi-kun, may I ask you a favour?”

“E-Eh? O-Of course, Naruse-san!” Eisuke said with a rushed bow, as he peered up at the other expectantly.

“This ring belongs to Matsuda-sama. I wish to return it to him however I am unsure where exactly his room is located in the palace. Would you please be able to return it to him in my place?” he asked, holding out the silver ring on his palm.

Eisuke’s eyes grew as wide as saucepans as he placed his hands on his knees and bowed deeply to Takeshi, “I-I’m so sorry, I do not know if I have the capabilities for such a task! I-If Matsuda-sama catches me, I-I think I will definitely die.”

Takeshi shook his head, “He will not be angry once he understands it belongs to him. You may not even run into him, since I do not think he is the type to linger in his room often.”

“I am sorry to ask this of you. I would like to do it myself, however I do not know my way around the palace. I would surely get lost, and you would not look out of place if you were seen there, so this is the best solution I could think of,” he admitted, and he felt the guilt settle at the base of his stomach for asking this of Eisuke when he clearly was not comfortable. Yet, Takeshi knew that sooner or later Junichi would surely realise his ring was missing and he did not want to be the reason for another outburst like the night before.

And Eisuke seemed to understand this as well, as he straightened with resolve and bowed yet again, “A-Alright! I will return it for you, Naruse-san! Sorry for taking so long to say yes, sorry for my hesitation!”

“It’s okay, Eguchi-kun, there’s nothing for you to be sorry about this time. I’m grateful that you are doing this errand for me, thank you,” Takeshi smiled at him, and placed the ring in his hands.

And so, Eisuke made his way over to the emperor’s palace. It was the place where royal guests stayed, and since Junichi did not have a household of his own in Edo, it made sense that he took residence there and it was not the first time that this had happened. However, it was not a frequent occurrence, and Eisuke was having trouble remembering specifically what room of the spare rooms Junichi stayed in.

“Which one was Matsuda-sama’s room again?” Eisuke muttered quietly to himself his eyes darting anxiously down one end of the hallway and then the other. He had a feeling it was on the left, but then again…what if it was on the right?

There was nobody around, just as Takeshi had guessed, so Eisuke felt that it would be alright to investigate just to be sure. With one last look, he scurried over to the room on the far right, and ever so softly pushed open the door. Creeping inside, he inspected the room and found a chest of jewellery on one of the dressing tables, and he knew immediately that this was not Junichi’s room, as the royal son was known for having little interest in such fine things.

 _I was correct all along, it was on the left, I’ll go over there and return the ring now!_ Eisuke thought to himself, giving a quick nod as he turned to leave–

“What are you doing?”

–but instead he was met with the intimidating figure of Naozaki Ranmaru standing in the doorway, for this was his room.

Eisuke’s heart plummeted and pounded anxiously in his chest as he shook his head hurriedly, “N-Nothing! I-I’m sorry!”

“Aren’t you one of Genba’s servants? What, has he sent you to spy on me?” Ranmaru asked, a disgruntled frown on his lips as he looked down his nose at Eisuke.

“I-I am so sorry, no, he didn’t! Genba-sama would never do such a thing!”

In his haste to bow properly and apologetically towards the royal, Eisuke’s hands fumbled and he dropped the ring. He gasped as he and everyone else heard it clink and roll on the ground.

Ranmaru bent down to pick it up, and scoffed, “Ah, I understand. You are trying to steal from me, aren’t you?”

“N-No, please, I’m very sorry! Please, wait!” Eisuke tried his best to protest and apologised over and over, yet he was powerless once the servants grabbed him. He was dragged away, and all he could do was curse his uselessness as he physically shook in fear.

*

Takeshi had just finished his morning tasks and had gone on a walk in the palace grounds to find Eisuke, when he came across the sight of him being whipped – in a public gazebo and in front of an audience. He felt his blood boil in anger, both at himself and at the one he knew to be Ranmaru who authorised such a cruel punishment.

“Tell me, I’m so interested to know. What else were you stealing?” Ranmaru asked in a silky soft voice, though his brow was wrinkled, casting a dark shadow of mirth over his face.

Eisuke flinched and shivered, as he whimpered in pain, “I-I’m s-s-sorry, b-but I...I was not st-stealing!”

“Then, were you going to leave me a present?” Ranmaru and his group of servants laughed mockingly at Eisuke, who shook his head emphatically.

“I-I had entered your room by my own grievous mistake, Ranmaru-sama. I am so sorry! I am being honest, I swear!”

“Too bad I do not believe a word you say. Whip him. Until he properly confesses, whip him like the piece of worthless trash he is!” Ranmaru ordered, his voice rising with rage as the servant landed another blow to Eisuke’s back.

“STOP!” Takeshi yells as loud as he can, because even if his presence is weak, his voice can be quite strong on its own. 

He runs up the stairs of the gazebo, pushing through the crowd of servants who were watching until he made it to the front. Once he was there, he immediately moved in front of Eisuke, raising his arms out at his sides to act as a blockade and protect him from any further harm. 

Then, he took a moment to look over his shoulder at his friend. Eisuke had been whipped, his back covered in three bloody lines of gashes that had soaked through his clothes. His arms were tied above his head so he couldn’t move.

“What did he do so wrong that you would do something like this?” Takeshi questioned, even though he believed there was no response that could ever justify harming another human being just as this man was doing.

“He was caught stealing in my quarters. I do not take kindly to uninvited and unwanted visitors,” Ranmaru answered in a cold, unfeeling tone, his earlier mirth so quickly replaced by irritation.

Takeshi took a moment to process the situation, and then it hit him, “The ring?”

When Ranmaru quirked an eyebrow suspiciously, Takeshi elaborated, “I told him to put it there. He did not steal it.”

“It isn’t something the likes of you would be able to own. Stop lying. He was clearly trying to steal one of my precious pieces of jewellery,” Ranmaru sneered, clearly looking down on Takeshi.

Takeshi did not back down though, and stood his ground, “I am not the one who owns it, and neither are you. This ring belongs to Matsuda-sama. Eguchi-kun must have accidentally gotten your rooms mixed up.”

A loud, mocking laugh fell from Ranmaru’s lips, “How can I believe your words? Even if it was Matsuda’s, why do _you_ have it?”

Takeshi was silent. He could not say the real reason he had it, or else that would break his word to Junichi to stay quiet about the other night at the tower monument garden.

Ranmaru, however, seemed to take this as a confession, “See? Your story seems to be so full of holes.”

“Please, this is a terrible misunderstanding. Eguchi-kun meant no disrespect upon you, Ranmaru-sama. Can you not see how utterly apologetic he is?” Takeshi emphasised his words, begging for reason and understanding from the other man, from _anyone_.

Yet, no one said a word. Out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed some of the royal brothers had stumbled across the scene and had stopped to understand what was going on.

“That is because he is guilty and trying to weasel his way out of a punishment. That will not work on me. Whip him again,” Ranmaru dismissed him with a wave, as he ordered the head servant to continue the punishment.

As the servant nods dutifully and steps forward, Kuroko angles his body to face her, glaring her down and clearly sending the message that nobody was laying another hand on Eisuke. 

The servant steps back, confused, gaze flickering between Kuroko and Ranmaru. 

Before Ranmaru could open his mouth and spew more nonsense, Takeshi jumped in and said, “If that is the case, then hit me instead.”

The shock from all the onlookers was palpable, but Takeshi paid it no mind and continued looking at Ranmaru in resolve, “I cannot give you the details, but Eguchi-kun is innocent. If you must whip someone, I told him to do it, so whip me instead.”

“N-Naruse-san!” Eisuke’s face fell at his words, a new kind of fear blooming in his eyes. 

“You heard him, didn’t you? Tie him up,” Ranmaru’s eyes danced with glee, as if he had gotten exactly what he wanted. 

“Yes, Ranmaru-sama,” the head servant bowed, and nodded her head towards the other servants.

The servants quickly started untying Eisuke’s restraints, but the latter did not look relieved in the slightest. Tears welled in his eyes as he continued pleading, calling for him helplessly as he was let go, “N-Naruse-san, I-I am so sorry! N-No, p-please! Naruse-san!”

But, Kuroko could not back down. It was his fault that Eisuke had been put in this position in the first place. There was no way he could ever apologise enough to make up for it, so the least he could do was to bear this punishment instead. He let himself be pulled over and tied up in the same way Eisuke had been.

Ranmaru snatched the whip out of the servant’s hands.

As the whip came down on his back, Takeshi let out a choked gasp of pain, trying his hardest not to show how much it affected him. He could see Eisuke crying and flinching every time the whip cracked down on him.

“Why isn’t Gen here, damn it!? Can’t we stop this somehow?” Haruuchi said in a stressed voice, his eyes darting around as if he would find Genba had magically appeared somewhere.

“It is not our place to step in. None of our households have been wronged, and although it may be frustrating, Ranmaru holds authority here as it occurred in his quarters,” Shigeru said, eyes as aloof as ever although his eyebrows were drawn together concernedly.

He was struck by the whip five more times, and the pain was getting worse and worse. The muscles in his back stung terribly, as if they were being shredded from the outside force. It was like thousands of burning needles were prickling under his skin. Then, as he braced himself for Ranmaru to land a sixth strike, nothing happened.

Then, a familiar voice spoke, which caused Takeshi to glance over his shoulder in sheer shock, “Tying up servants and members of other households, Ranmaru? And people call _me_ an animal, I wonder what that makes you?”

There, holding Ranmaru’s wrist in a strong grip and stopping him from landing another strike on Takeshi, was Matsuda Junichi.

“I’m a pure-blooded royal, you lowly half breed! Just because I do not live in this palace does not lessen my standing! What right do _you_ have to stop me!?” Ranmaru spat as he ripped his wrist free, nostrils flared and eyes flashing angrily at Junichi.

Junichi’s mouth formed a sharp smirk, as his eyes blazed at the other, “That’s simple. This lowly half breed is half Furuya, and that’s more than you can say for yourself. Quit running your mouth when you are clearly the one being outranked right now, Ranmaru.”

“What does this have to do with you anyway!?” Ranmaru demanded, glaring openly at Junichi as he asked the question that was on the tip of everyone’s tongues. Matsuda Junichi was not known for involving himself in other people’s affairs, so this was quite unorthodox.

There was silence, as Junichi paused and looked directly at Takeshi, and Takeshi looked back at him. Watching and waiting for what he would say, because honestly, he did not have a clue why Junichi was here defending him right now.

Then, the smirk shifted into a cocky half-smile, as he boldly declared to everyone present, “He belongs to me.”

People’s eyes grew wide, and they exchanged confused, incredulous looks with each other. They could not believe what they were seeing, and for his part, Takeshi could not believe it either.

Ranmaru’s eyes flicked to Takeshi, then back to Junichi, and he jeered, “What did you say?”

“I said, he’s mine,” Junichi repeated, all the while keeping his eyes on Takeshi.

Then, after what felt like ages, Junichi glanced away from him and pulled a necklace chain that was hidden under his clothes up over his head. He dangled it in front of Ranmaru, “That ring is my property, it has been missing from my neck chain for two days now. So, I should be the one who decides what to do with him.”

“Hah! What nonsense is this!? I have dozens of rare and valuable rings, and I clearly saw that servant in _my_ room. How can I believe this is yours?” Ranmaru demanded, his fists clenched so tightly they were shaking at his sides.

“If you will allow me to join this interrogation, I believe I have some knowledge that may be of use,” Shigeru interjected, stepping up onto the gazebo and approaching the others, “In my studies, I’ve read in depth about how jewellery and valuables are kept not only in Edo, but in other cities as well. I am no expert by any means, but may I examine the ring? It may provide us with information as to who it truly belongs to.”

“Fine. Hand it over,” Ranmaru ordered to his servant, who bowed and hurriedly gave it to Shigeru.

“It’s true, Ranmaru-sama. This engraving here is a specific style that can only be done by jewellers in Osaka, so there is no doubt that the ring belongs to Junichi,” Shigeru said, holding the ring as he turned to Junichi.

“If Shige has confirmed it, then it must be true. His knowledge of many topics is at a scholar level, so his word can be trusted,” Akito added as he stepped forward, causing Ranmaru to look to him.

“That’s right! And, Taki did not steal it either! He told me he picked it up outside near the training grounds!” Haruuchi piped up, rushing over to Takeshi’s side and standing next to him. Takeshi looked at him surprise, and when the onlookers eyed him with uncertainty, he quickly amended his words, “No…I saw him pick it up.”

“I have seen and heard enough. Untie Naruse-kun, now!” Chikara ordered, and as the second oldest after Nobunaga, his word was essentially final.

As soon as he was let out of his restraints, Takeshi turned and approached Eisuke, who was still trembling and leaning against the giant pillar for support. Wordlessly, he reached out and placed an arm around Eisuke’s back, carefully avoiding his wounds, and held his closest arm as he turned them around to leave. As he passed by Ranmaru, his blue eyes hardened in silent anger, which did not seem to go unnoticed by the other. However, nothing more was said, and he slowly shuffled away, taking slow steps so as not to aggravate Eisuke’s wounds.

“We humbly request that you forgive such a grievous error on our part, Ranmaru-sama. We are sorry if we have disrespected you,” Chikara stated on behalf of the brothers, who all looked on cautiously.

“It is just as well that nothing of mine was stolen, then. That would have certainly caused an upset, so you should all be careful to ensure it does not happen again,” Ranmaru tsked, and then spun on his heel to depart, his servants rushing along behind him dutifully.

Once he was gone, Junichi walked over to Shigeru, his boots clacking on the ground as he approached him. He lifted his arm and turned his hand over, so his palm was facing up. Shigeru’s lips thinned at the informal attitude, but he dropped the ring onto Junichi’s palm.

Squeezing it tight into his fist, Junichi nodded once in their direction, then walked off without a word.

The brothers, for their part, gazed on in silent shock at the unexpected show of civility.

*

“Eguchi-kun, I am being honest when I say I am alright. You have done more than enough for me, and you have not yet had your own injuries seen to. Your wounds are much worse than mine,” Takeshi frowned as he glanced at the weeping, bloody wounds on Eisuke’s back.

They were in one of the dayroom’s in Genba’s household, and Eisuke had immediately set to work on rubbing a healing balm on his back. The whip left behind red marks that would eventually bruise, but Takeshi didn’t even feel any pain when he looked at Eisuke’s injuries.

“I’m sorry, Naruse-san, p-please allow me to keep going until I have finished. It is unforgiveable that you were hurt in my place, I-I am very sorry,” Eisuke said, his eyes bloodshot from the pain and his crying from earlier. He looked so tired and worn down, Takeshi wished he would rest.

“You did nothing wrong. I am the one that should be apologising for asking you to do something I should have done myself. I did not consider how risky it would be for you, and that is my fault. I am so sorry for causing you to get hurt, Eguchi-kun,” he said regretfully, ashamed of his actions.

He hadn’t thought it through properly, hadn’t realised the repercussions that would occur if a servant was falsely accused for something they did not do. Eisuke had no means to defend himself, and the word of a royal would always smother the word of a servant.

Then, just as Eisuke finished and Takeshi was pulling his robes back on, the doors burst open, revealing Genba and Yuwa. The two had been away most of the day, since it was the anniversary of Yuwa’s parents’ deaths, they had made a pilgrimage to their graves and had only just now returned. From their expressions alone, Takeshi could tell that the news of this afternoon’s events had already reached them.

“Keshi-kun! Eisuke-kun!” Yuwa ran over to them as soon as the doors opened, her eyes wide and worried as she inspected them both one at a time. 

“Ranmaru, that bastard,” Genba cursed, looking more upset than Takeshi had ever seen him, he was visibly seething, “harassing _my_ people in _my_ household. Who does he think he is!?”

“What happened? I’ve got the general gist because people all over the palace are gossiping about it, but I want to hear it directly from the both of you,” Genba asked, looking between Eisuke and Takeshi not with judgement, but with genuine care and concern.

Before Takeshi could think of what to say, Eisuke had turned to face Genba directly and although it must have hurt him, bowed towards the royal son, “My deepest a-apologies, Genba-sama. I-It is my fault, I-”

“Eguchi-kun is completely innocent in all this,” Takeshi interrupted, unable to stand by and let Eisuke take the blame, “I asked him to run an errand in the palace, and he mistakenly entered Ranmaru-sama’s quarters. When he started punishing Eguchi-kun, I stepped in to stop him. I think you know what happened from there, Genba-sama.”

Eisuke stared up at him with wide, disbelieving eyes, as if he could not fathom the fact that someone would speak up on his behalf. It saddened Takeshi, because every person had a right to speak their truth and to have people believe in them.

For his part, Genba gazed at Takeshi with a furrowed brow, and gave a solemn nod, “Yeah, I believe you, Keshi. You might not remember it well, but this is the typical underhanded behaviour we expect from Ranmaru. That bastard creates so much needless tension and friction in the households whenever he visits the palace, it’s like he thrives on it.”

“Can you walk, Eisuke-kun?” Yuwa asked worriedly, placing a gentle hand on Eisuke’s shoulder.

“Y-Yes. I’m sorry, Aisawa-sama. I may be slower than usual performing my tasks this evening,” Eisuke answered, which made her frown unhappily.

“You should not push yourself so much.”

Eisuke bowed his head, as if he was ashamed of himself, “I-I’m sorry for my uselessness, but I can endure it. I am the head servant, s-so I will carry out my duties as I’m supposed to.”

“Forget that. Take the evening off to rest and go take care of your wounds before they get badly infected,” Genba replied, as if the solution was truly that easy. 

“The others can pull through without you for one night. I only have the most capable servants working under me, so I believe they can handle all the duties that need to be done. Well, maybe except for making me food since you do that the best. One night without it won’t kill me, though,” Genba added with a warm smile, shrugging it off as he stepped closer to Eisuke.

“If you need more reason than that, then I’m ordering you to do it. I don’t want to see you walking around, or I’ll get angry. Understand, Eisuke?”

“G-Genba-sama,” Eisuke lowered his head, and Kuroko was certain he was the only one who could see the way he was trembling, “I am so deeply sorry, thank you for your benevolence. I will resume my duties in full form by tomorrow!”

“Hah, you sure will. You better make it up to me tomorrow and give me double servings. No, wait, maybe even triple!” Genba said, dropping a hand lightly on top of Eisuke’s head and using it to lift his head out of the bow. When Eisuke looked at him with teary eyes, Genba flashed him a reassuring grin and ruffled his hair. It warmed a part of Takeshi’s heart to see that Genba was not a royal who mistreated servants, or considered them as less than human.

“Y-Yes! I will, Genba-sama!” Eisuke nodded eagerly, sniffling, and hastily wiping at his eyes. Genba nodded his approval and removed his hand, as Yuwa came forward and gently wrapped an arm around Eisuke.

“Come with me, Eisuke-kun. Let’s go find the other servants to let them know what is happening and get them to help with your wounds,” Yuwa showed him a reassuring smile as they slowly made their way out of the room.

“You should rest, too. Come, I’ll take you back to your room,” Genba offered his hand out to Takeshi, who gazed at it for a moment. Then, he slowly slipped his hand inside Genba’s larger one, and felt the comfort when their hands squeezed together.

“Your injuries have been taken care of?” Genba asked, his eyes darting over Takeshi’s figure in concern as they walked side by side at a slow pace.

“Yes, Eguchi-kun insisted on treating mine first. He insisted, despite how severe his own wounds were in comparison to mine,” Takeshi bit his lip as he remembered the way Eisuke had been crying and apologising, yet they had still beaten him unrelentingly.

“I was whipped for only a few minutes, yet...it felt like it had gone on for hours,” Takeshi confessed, his eyes glazing over as he suppressed a wince at the vivid memory of earlier that day.

Genba stopped walking, and Takeshi unconsciously stopped as well. Still holding his hand, Genba inspected his face closely, “You are still hurting a lot, right?”

Takeshi shook his head, “It is not because I was whipped. I am more upset because I was treated in such a way. Not only me, but Eguchi-kun as well.”

“They would not even give him a chance to explain, already deciding he was guilty on their own judgement. When I attempted to explain instead, nobody believed me,” a tendril of despair began curling through his system. He was naïve to even think that living life in this era could be considered easy or simple. If anything, Kuroko had to be even more cautious than he was in the modern age, because a simple mistake could actually put his own, or someone else’s life in danger.

Uncertain of what to do, he fixed Genba with an apprehensive gaze, “Is it always this way? Is Edo a place that disrespects you unless you’re somebody’s daughter or son? A person can tie up another like an animal and hit them, as if one is worth more than the other. I have never felt so useless before as I did in that moment.”

“I am sorry I could not have been there to stop it. But Keshi, I will make you this promise,” then, he felt Genba’s hand slip away from his and then those strong hands were gripping his slim shoulders. They held him securely, yet tenderly, and he felt his heart twinge when Genba said his next words, “No one will ever be able to treat you in such a manner again.”

Takeshi wanted to believe in those words. He wanted to believe in them very much, and even though he still possessed his doubts, he decided to trust in Genba. The one who had been by his side from the start, even without being asked to stay. So, he showed him a brief smile, which eased the frown lines on Genba’s face.

“Get some sleep, your body needs time to heal itself overnight,” he said, as they walked the rest of the way to Takeshi’s room. He nodded and missed the warmth from Genba’s hands as they fell away, and Takeshi entered his room.

*

The next day, Takeshi already felt better. His injuries were already starting to bruise, which meant he was on the mend. Even Eisuke looked improved compared to yesterday, although he was still slower than usual completing his tasks during the day. So, Takeshi had insisted on helping out with the chores, and had managed to convince the servants to let him fetch some water from the nearby freshwater stream.

As he filled the bucket, he had carried with him up with water, he paused when he heard footsteps behind him. He barely had time to set the bucket down when he turned and bumped straight into someone’s chest. As he glanced up and saw Junichi in front of him, Takeshi wondered if there was some unknown force drawing them together again and again. For what reason, he honestly did not know.

“Watch where you are going!” Junichi yelled, irritable as ever.

“Sorry. Please, excuse me, but you bumped into me first,” Takeshi apologised, bowing properly to the royal son.

“Haah? I did not see a thing, how is it _my_ fault!?” Junichi growled, easily rising to the conflict between them. It seemed he and Junichi could never agree whenever they spoke about anything.

Takeshi paused, then eyed him critically as he recalled the events from yesterday, “I am ‘yours’?”

Junichi drew back, confused, “Huh?”

“That’s what you said the other day, in front of everyone. Why would you say such an ambiguous thing? It may not have been your intention, but your words have inadvertently created a misunderstanding that I have already spent much time clearing up.”

“Don’t you know how to say, ‘thank you’?” Junichi asked obnoxiously, ignoring Takeshi’s question in favour of his own.

He spoke on without waiting for a response, eyes narrowed angrily at Takeshi, “I saved you yet again, and you still haven’t said a word of gratitude! Before you argue about whatever I did, you should thank me for saving you!”

“Since Matsuda-sama has constantly been threatening to kill me each time we meet, I suppose I forgot to take that into account. I am curious why the winds changed,” Takeshi hummed, and he was honestly puzzled as to why Junichi had come to his defence, completely unprompted and out of nowhere. He had thought Junichi only viewed him as a nuisance he wanted to get rid of, yet he stood up for Takeshi of his own accord.

“Nonetheless…” Takeshi cleared his throat and said in the flattest, most monotone way possible as he bowed politely, “…thank you.”

Junichi cleared his throat, then asked abruptly, “Why did you even have that ring? I was looking for it everywhere, where did you find it?”

“You dropped it the other night, at the shrine garden. When I came back the next morning during my walk, I found it near the prayer towers. I wanted to return it quietly without your notice, but I didn’t know where you were staying so I sent Eguchi-kun instead. Then it became complicated after Ranmaru-sama got involved.”

“This is all because I could not say the real reason as to why I found it and had it in my possession. So, I ‘kept my mouth shut’ about that night as you told me to and kept my promise,” Takeshi finished with a self-satisfied nod, even remembering the exact words Junichi had used when he told him to keep the whole incident quiet. Junichi on the other hand was not impressed or amused by it.

“Aren’t you even scared of me?” Junichi asked with wary eyes, his expression creased with annoyance as he continued, “You talk back to me every single time!”

Takeshi let out a soft sigh, and hummed thoughtfully, “You are not someone I should take lightly, but I am not scared of you, Matsuda-sama.”

The words seemed to shake Junichi, who had clearly expected a different answer. Takeshi was not finished, though, and continued as he raised his hand courteously, “However, I have a request. Please do not call me ‘yours’ ever again.”

“Why not?” Junichi asked, honest confusion laced in his tone.

Takeshi repressed a sigh and instead readied to explain himself, “I have already mentioned this to you before, however I must remind you that I am not an object or an animal. You do not own me, and you cannot treat me however you please. I am a person, so please respect me as such.”

“I only said that to save you from a beating, and here you are still complaining,” Junichi tsked, his mouth twitching in a frustrated scowl.

Then, he stepped closer, closing the distance between him. Junichi leaned down until he and Takeshi were face to face, and said, “Fine, then. Next time, should I just call you ‘my person’ instead?”

Takeshi’s eyes grew wider in surprise, as Junichi continued to stare at him with his face only a few centimetres from Takeshi’s own. He did not know if Junichi was aware of the romantic connotations associated with such a term as ‘my person’, yet the expression on his face was both smug and serious at the same time.

“I think you are getting the wrong idea about what I am saying, Matsuda-sama. It would be better for both of us if you referred to me by my proper name from now on: Naruse Takeshi,” he explained, averting his gaze and breaking their intense eye contact.

“You’re so overly formal, it’s tiring for me to just listen to you,” Junichi sighed, a bored expression taking over his face as he stepped back and looked out at the stream.

“Shouldn’t you be more diligent with your formal speech than I am, being one of the royal sons?” Takeshi queried.

Junichi scoffed, “I heard you’re an oddity and all, but surely you know by now that I’m more of a royal misfit than a proper son.”

Takeshi had in fact been informed of such, but he still felt that Junichi should take his position more seriously, “Even so, that does not change the simple fact that you are a prince. As someone with a higher standing, you should speak in a way that encourages and supports those around you.”

“This lecture sounds familiar, and I’m getting sick of you telling me what and what not to do, _Naruse-kun_ ,” Junichi said through a sneer with clearly forced courtesy meant to mock Takeshi.

“Forgive me, it was not my intention to try to control you, Matsuda-sama. I merely wished to offer you some friendly insight.”

“‘Insight’? Hah! As if you’re that wise!” Junichi laughed scornfully, which made Takeshi raise an eyebrow at him sceptically.

“If you cannot accept a piece of advice from someone else, how do you expect to grow as a person? Can only one person’s opinion be right? That seems impossible, and unfair. Don’t you agree?” he said, and it earned him a stunned look from Junichi.

“What did you say?” he asked, sounding utterly blindsided by the question.

However, Takeshi did not have time to indulge him any further. He had gotten distracted, and Eisuke would surely worry if he was not back soon with the water.

“I am sorry, I will be leaving first, Matsuda-sama. I am already late, so let’s talk another time,” Takeshi bowed, and as soon as he redirected Junichi’s attention, he quietly slipped past him and lifted up the full bucket as he followed the stony path out of the stream.

Junichi blinked, and the man in front of him disappeared. He looked around, turning left and right to see if he could spot his tiny figure in the distance. Yet, there was no sight of him, not even a strand of his white hair to be seen.

Naruse Takeshi was most definitely an oddity, Junichi could confirm it now. After all, what normal person would want to meet with Junichi again when they had no obligation to do it? People avoided him – they did not wait to see him again or talk with him another time. Junichi shook his head and sat down by the stream, closing his eyes as he exhaled and tried to ignore the words and the way they had set him off balance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading and please leave me a comment to let me know what you think!
> 
> until next time, hope you all take care and stay safe! xo
> 
> Note:  
> Naozaki Ranmaru - Hanamiya Makoto   
> Hirata Yoshitune - Himuro Tatusya

**Author's Note:**

> If you made it this far, thank you for reading all the way to the end! \^o^/  
> Notes:  
> Naruse Takeshi = Kuroko  
> Matsuda Junichi = Kagami  
> Furuya Genba = Aomine  
> Aisawa Yuwa = Momoi  
> Eguchi Eisuke = Sakurai  
> Furuya Haruuchi = Kise  
> Furuya Shigeru = Midorima  
> Furuya Akito = Murasakibara  
> Furuya Chikara = Akashi  
> Furuya Nobunaga = Nijimura  
> Okayama Hirofumi = Mayuzumi  
> (I will add to this as more characters get introduced!)
> 
> What did you think? I'd love it if you can let me know your thoughts in the comments!  
> Take care until next time x


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